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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24461671">String Theory</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/dazzletwig/pseuds/dazzletwig'>dazzletwig</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>A comfortable pile of tropes [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Haikyuu!!</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Angst with a Happy Ending, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Multi, Mutual Pining, Red String of Fate, Slow Burn, Working Adults (TM) (again) (Akaashi at least takes his job seriously), Workplace Relationship, i know nothing about working in any of these industries, our faves being silly, please suspend disbelief for workplace realism, yall ever wonder why akaashi fidgets with his hands</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-05-30</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-07-02</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 00:55:27</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>28,369</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24461671</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/dazzletwig/pseuds/dazzletwig</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Akaashi's been able to see strings of fate ever since he was a child, but the most troublesome one by far is the red one on his right pinky. He's fared well up til now--he has a comfortable job as the personal assistant to the president of the Fuku Hotel Group, currently Bokuto's mom. And as long as Bokuto behaves himself, that role will be his in time. Akaashi will do anything to protect and support his friend, even if it means keeping their fate a secret.</p><p>In which Akaashi observes, records, worries, and all-round takes everything very seriously. Now, if only Bokuto could, too.</p><p>Updates MWF (at least). Now with cover art!</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Akaashi Keiji/Bokuto Koutarou, Hinata Shouyou/Kageyama Tobio, Iwaizumi Hajime/Oikawa Tooru, Sawamura Daichi/Sugawara Koushi</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>A comfortable pile of tropes [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1766848</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>88</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>239</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>My favorite haikyuu fics</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Prologue</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Thanks for reading this new installment! It’s set in the same universe as <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24117118">my first fic</a>, but this one is a fair bit longer. Timewise, it covers events before, during, and after my first fic!</p>
    </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Update 06/10/20: Made a cover for the fic! It applies to Chap 7 but is fairly spoiler-friendly. See the full ~animated~ version here on <a href="https://twitter.com/DazzleTwig/status/1270711480279859200">twitter</a>! </p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Hello?”</p><p>“Aka-chan! We haven’t talked in ages. Where’d you traipse off to this time?”</p><p>Akaashi pauses, holding the phone a little away from his face before bringing it back to his ear. </p><p>“Oikawa-san, is that you?”</p><p>The voice greets him cheerfully. “Yes, indeedy! Do you know how expensive international calling is? Good thing I’m using my work phone.”</p><p>“Is this related to the Health and Sports Day ads? I can put you in touch with Konoha—” </p><p>“No, no, that’s all good. I’ve got Makki in charge there.”</p><p>The warm breeze ruffles Akaashi’s hair, bringing with it the scent of sweets from the street vendors around him and the clamoring of a busy afternoon in the marketplace.</p><p>Oikawa hums in surprise. “Say, Akaashi! I was half-joking about you running around overseas, but… do I hear German in the background?”</p><p>Akaashi looks at the street before crossing to the other side, shaded from the warm afternoon sun and a little less packed with pedestrians.</p><p>“Yes. Sorry about that, Oikawa-san. I’m currently in Vienna on business, although today happens to be a day off.”</p><p>“Oh, that sounds amazing! Gosh, if I could find some way for my work to take me abroad.”</p><p>“You could use your vacation days. You have enough of them, I assume.”</p><p>“Blunt as ever, Aka-chan,” Oikawa laughs, then sighs a bit. “Well, you’re not wrong, though. But! I don’t want to take you away from your precious day off too much. I have a favour to ask.”</p><p>“Is anything the matter?”</p><p>“Oh, no, not like that! I wanted to know if any of Fuku’s Tokyo locations have a free spot for a pool rental next weekend, for a company team-building event. Price isn’t a concern.”</p><p>It’s unlikely, Akaashi thinks. Weekend retreats and conferences are relatively common in the summer. Although… </p><p>“It may be possible with the Meda downtown.”</p><p>Oikawa whistles. “Dang, Akaashi. That ritzy place? I know I said price isn’t a concern…”</p><p>Akaashi smiles. “Don’t worry about that, Oikawa-san. I can talk to someone about a friends discount.”</p><p>A chuckle from the other side of the line. “Just a casual discount—man, did the promotion get to your head? What was it, VP Human Resources?” </p><p>“I haven’t been promoted yet, and I’m still deciding what to do. And, you’ve helped me out plenty in the past, Oikawa-san.”</p><p>“You flatter me, Aka-chan! How can I say no to that pretty face of yours?”</p><p>Akaashi rolls his eyes, even if the person on the other end of the phone can’t see it. “I’ll mail you the details later. Consider it done, for old times’ sake.”</p><p>“Oooh, that sounds ominous. We’re not placing a hit here, or anything. Or, are you doing <em>one final favour</em> before riding off gallantly into the distance like some misguided martyr?”</p><p>“Oikawa-san.”</p><p>Oikawa’s voice is a little softer as he responds. “Just saying, Aka-chan. You’re back in Austria, after all.” He picks up his cheery tone before continuing, “Well! You have to come back and play volleyball with us again. It’s summer!”</p><p>Akaashi finds his feet slowing down and his eyes drawn to a flower shop across the street, proudly boasting a display bursting with seasonal blooms. He vaguely picks out spikes of pink, white, orange, and more, all nestled in fluffy beds of foliage.</p><p>A couple stops by the shop. The taller woman with the sleek blonde ponytail gasps as she pulls out a bundle of bright red from the top of the street display, excitedly making conversation with the storekeep as he wraps it up. Immediately after depositing money in his hand, she whirls around and presses the bouquet into the petite woman next to her. The recipient’s face is blushing to her roots, and she buries it in the red flowers.</p><p>He doesn’t even need to squint—the other side of the street is cast in bright sunlight, and the crimson string hanging between the two women is easy to see even from his distance. Elegantly looping from one hand to the other, it sways in the breeze as the couple walks off with their hands linked.</p><p>“Aka-chan?” Oikawa’s voice brings Akaashi back to attention, but he glances around the street before quickly crossing towards the flower shop. “I was saying you and Bokkun should come around next time.”</p><p>“Yes, Oikawa-san. I would love to play again sometime.”</p><p>“Oh, good. Say, how is he doing? Bokkun, I mean. I heard he might be promoted to president soon!”</p><p>“Hm. I’m not sure. I haven’t talked to him in a while.” Akaashi murmurs. He stops a little distance away from the display. There in the top row is a lone blossom, golden petals glowing against deep green leaves. Akaashi motions to the owner that he wants to buy it, and the owner obligingly brings out wrapping paper.</p><p>He realizes the line is a bit quiet. </p><p>“Oikawa-san?”</p><p>“Aka-chan…”</p><p>Akaashi pays the store owner and gingerly holds onto the stem of the flower.</p><p>“What?” </p><p>A sigh from the other side of the line. </p><p>“Okay. I know a lost cause when I see one. Let’s talk when you come back to Japan, alright?”</p><p>“Anytime, Oikawa-san. I look forward to seeing you all in person again.”</p><p>“You too. Stay safe, alright? Come back soon!”</p><p>Akaashi hangs up and returns the phone to his pocket before examining the flower in his hand. He has no idea what it’s called. The colour is warm and comforting, but it’s also vivid and commands attention. As he’s holding the flower up to the light, he feels a faint twinge on his right pinky. </p><p>The flower doesn’t have thorns. A quick glance reveals a thin coil of red binding his finger. Unconsciously, he fiddles with the knot. The tail of the string snaps up and behind him, thin and very faint, flowing in the wind before ending in a frayed tip not even a meter out.</p><p>Akaashi sighs and turns his attention back to the flower. He briefly entertains the idea of slipping it into his breast pocket, but he instead opts to clutch the bloom close to his chest as he walks to his hotel.</p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Next time: the first main chapter. Some sssnekky friends?</p><p>It's been a hot second since I wrote the hanahaki iwaoi fic. At the time, I made sure to finish drafting the whole fic before publishing. </p><p>This story's a lot more ambitious (for me lol) in terms of plot and length! I'm actually fairly worried about some of it, but I also feel like if I don't start posting now I'll never get some of the later chapters written. </p><p>I hope you enjoy! Please come yell at me on <a href="https://twitter.com/DazzleTwig">twitter</a>!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>In which Akaashi has bad coffee with only marginally better company. And this is only because the coffee is truly awful.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Planning to update on a MWF schedule! I have a solid buffer now, but I don't want to burn through it before I finish writing the whole fic :)</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>Akaashi is five when he first notices the cotton-candy threads snagged on his elbow, just barely visible in the warm evening light.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>He plucks the fine strands as his friend runs over, baseball bat dragging over the ground behind her. Like spider webs, the string stretches and refuses to break. His hand comes back clean, and the thread swings back into place.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Kei-kun?” </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Akaashi turns his attention to his mouse-haired friend. “Sorry, Yuzuki-chan.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“S’ok, du-ude.” She draws out the syllable, proud of her grown-up vocabulary. “Is there something stuck on your arm?”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Akaashi tries pulling the yellow string outward. “Do you see it? The string?”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Yuzuki squints at the space between them. “Nah.” She swings the bat haphazardly at their arms, and Akaashi has to jump back to dodge. “Issit gone now? Can we play again?”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>It isn’t, but Akaashi nods and takes the bat anyway.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>And over the years, Akaashi sees more and more colours spinning around him. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>In his first day of middle school, a blue string floats into view, pulled between the girl and the boy sitting at the front of the class. A sort of nebulous green web between the student teacher and the music teacher from fourth period. Yellow threads hanging like a tangled net through the classrooms, hallways, cafeteria—rooting down on shoulders, ankles, fingers, and in one case, on someone’s ear.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>When it becomes clear that nobody else sees them, Akaashi takes matters into his own hands. He finds a small spiral-bound notebook in his father’s study and begins to meticulously log everything he sees. </em>
</p>
<hr/><p>The coffee is bitter and cloying, but the croissant is flaky and rich. A little disappointing for such an expensive store, but Akaashi has always been a bit more of a tea person, anyway. The Citrus Owl Cafe has far better drinks, but… he wouldn’t ruin the peaceful atmosphere there for a meeting like this.</p><p>Akaashi glances at the elegant silver clock on the wall.</p><p>Taking another sip, he wonders if the orange tea on the menu is any good.</p><p>“Akaashi-san." A silky voice floats down from above him.</p><p>Akaashi leans back and flicks his eyes up to carefully smoothed bangs and thin eyes peering down over a sly smile.</p><p>“Daishou-san.” Akaashi indicates the seat across from him with a tilt of his head.</p><p>Daishou slides into the seat gracefully, stretching his long legs to the side of the table. “Thanks for making the time to meet me. You were… quite the challenge to schedule for even half an hour.”</p><p>“I apologize for the inconvenience. I am kept quite busy by Hanemi-san’s itinerary.”</p><p>Daishou’s mouth curves upwards. “The president of Fuku herself, huh? Moving quickly up the ladder, are we?”</p><p>Akaashi doesn’t blink as he sets his mug down, coffee cooling but barely touched. “A privilege I strive to live up to.”</p><p>Daishou chuckles. “So it seems! And not just you.”</p><p>Akaashi doesn’t humour him by asking, so Daishou continues unprompted.</p><p>“I’ve heard that Bokuto-kun has been preparing to take over the presidency.”</p><p>“That has always been on the table, and it has always been a long way away.”</p><p>Daishou folds his hands on the table, leaning back thoughtfully. “On the table is a bit different from confirmed. He bounced all over the place. I heard he worked as a janitor in Nekoma’s headquarters for a short bit?”</p><p>Akaashi closes his eyes, letting memories of broomfighting, soap slides down corporate hallways, and file cabinets full of chickens—honestly, <em>chickens?</em>—flash through his mind.  </p><p>He stifles a small sigh. “We don’t talk about the stewpot incident.”</p><p>Amusement flickers across Daishou’s face. “What a time. I wonder how anyone keeps up with the guy.” </p><p>Akaashi shrugs.</p><p>“Anyways,” Daishou leans back. “The thing is, he’s always been a bit of a wild card, especially in the eyes of the press.” Daishou taps his chin. “Honestly, it suits him? Somehow, he’s got this talent for riding the attention.”</p><p>Akaashi eyes him suspiciously, but slowly nods. </p><p>Daishou grins at the acknowledgement, the corners of his mouth pulling almost all the way to his ears. </p><p>“So! The thing is. I don’t know if you remember his jock days? He's actually still really popular in these tableau or blog things too, right now. He’s a hit with the ladies, you know? And really, not just the ladies.” Daishou winks at Akaashi. </p><p>Akaashi reflexively flicks down to Daishou’s hands. Only the right was visible, but there on the thumb, a red string leading—south? But Akaashi’s own string was leading west, to Fuku’s main building. Alright. Okay. </p><p>“—Hey, are you listening to me?” Daishou inquires indignantly. He glances down irritably, and Akaashi realizes he’s been gripping his own right pinky tightly. He forces his hands to relax and cradle the coffee mug instead.</p><p>“My apologies, Daishou-san.” Akaashi brings the coffee to his lips. “It seems I did not have enough morning caffeine.”</p><p>Daishou gives him a disbelieving look but continues anyway. “So like I was saying, I hope this isn’t news to you and your PR team.” He taps at a sheaf of printouts that he’s pulled out and placed on the table.</p><p>Akaashi picks the stack up and leafs through them. A gossip site? A blog? Some printouts of a social media dashboard? But the common thread is clearly the subject of the pictures and articles—Bokuto. In the first few, he’s smiling at the camera, sometimes making silly poses. But as Akaashi flips through, the pictures become more candid. And on the bottom of the stack, it’s just a series of photographs.</p><p>Akaashi frowns. The photos are grainy and dark, most with Bokuto’s back to the camera. They feature Boktuo exiting a car, entering restaurants—but always with a partner. </p><p>Akaashi can pick out Yukie in one, Bokuto’s cousin in another, and even Kuroo, leaning on Bokuto as they stumble out of a karaoke bar (Akaashi knows for a fact that they were sober that time).</p><p>But others, he also recognized from different nights. A blind date. A dating app match. The boy from the bar who hung onto Bokuto’s shoulders too many times that one very annoyingly long night.</p><p>“Where did you find all this?”</p><p>“Mika-chan’s got a nose for these kinds of things.” Daishou smiles proudly. </p><p>Akaashi frowns, then says carefully, “They’re quite suggestive.” </p><p>Daishou’s smile sharpens at this. “Mhm. I’d always thought our golden boy was all innocence and fluff, but… ” He gestures at the papers. “Anyways, let’s be real. I know this kind of thing is probably harmless, and I frankly don’t care. On the other hand, the rabid fans? The press? The quick-to-judge shareholders at the top of the food pyramid?” Daishou drops a fraction of his smile. “Maybe not so much.”</p><p>Akaashi holds his eyes level with Daishou’s. “I am grateful for your generosity and for Mika-san’s acumen. I will discuss this with our PR team immediately.” </p><p>Daishou slides into a half-lidded smirk. “Well, you know as well as I that you can’t kill rumors on the internet so easily these days, though? The only thing to do is to provide something juicier to bite into.” Daishou's pearly teeth glint in the low lighting.</p><p>“Is that so?” Akaashi places the papers on the table, eye contact unbroken.</p><p>“Yeah. I mean—” Daishou taps the golden ring on his left hand. “Remember this? Party of the year? We got some nice publicity payoff leading up to it.” Daishou refolds his hands, carefully leaving the ring in full view. “I wasn’t sure about it at first, but when Mika and I decided to go public—” Daishou flashed his hands to mimic an explosion. “—<em>bam</em>. The darlings of Nohebi Resorts <em>and</em> Keelback Parks?” Daishou sighs. “The only thing better was Mika’s face as she ate our wedding cake…” </p><p>Daishou shrugs off his daydream to meet Akaashi’s eyes again. “Anyways. You want to ask why I’m telling you this, so I’ll save you your breath. Like you said, I’m generous. The point is: Mika-chan’s got a little brother. So…”</p><p>Akaashi keeps looking at Daishou, who eventually frowns.</p><p>“...dude. Come on.”</p><p>“I am listening. You were saying that Mika-san has a brother. Then?”</p><p>Daishou gives him a disbelieving look. “Bokuto-kun! Mika's little bro!” Daishou gestures wildly to the papers, then to his ring. </p><p>“Is… is he engaged also…?” </p><p>“No!” Daishou groans in exasperation. “My god, I’m saying we can set him up with Bokuto-kun! And I thought you were the smart one,” he grumbles.</p><p>Realization hits Akaashi, belated as it is. </p><p>“I… why are you telling me this?” </p><p>“You know, I’m really wondering that myself! Again, I <em>thought</em> you were the smart one. But more importantly, you’re, like, his best friend or something?”</p><p>Akaashi bristles at the <em>or something.</em></p><p>“So I don’t know what planet you’re living on, but this is how you make connections, man. Your friends are your wingmen, your supports, your mutual link.”</p><p>Akaashi feels frustration build behind his eyes. </p><p>“I mean, it’s definitely not out of the blue for a family like the Bokutos to matchmake their eldest son, but I thought that that wasn’t their style.”</p><p>“It isn’t.”</p><p>“And so it’s up to us, the <em>wingmen, </em>to get the ball rolling. Look, obviously building that bridge could be hugely beneficial. Can you imagine? Fuku, Nohebi, Keelback? The hospitality industry isn’t ready for that.” Daishou’s sharp grin is back, topped by an ambitious glint in his eyes. </p><p>“But even all else aside, Akio-kun’s a catch. You’ve seen his sister, so he’s obviously adorable, too. He's doing his MBA right now, and he’s got a huge following on that one site, what was it—Ah, Foxtrot. And I didn’t really think we’d need to do it this way, but I can get you his resume too? Akaashi-san?”</p><p>Akaashi blinks back to attention. “Ah. Yes, he sounds wonderful.”</p><p>Daishou gives him a withering glare. “And… you’ll help me set up a date with him and Bokuto-kun?”</p><p>Akaashi looks down at his hands, placed on top of the sheets of paper. The page at the top has a picture of Bokuto at a charity marathon, beaming at the camera as he leaps over the finish line.</p><p>“I will… talk to him about it.”</p><p>Daishou smiles and straightens his jacket as he stands up. “That’s great. Let’s talk again soon. See you, Akaashi-san.”</p><p>As Daishou walks away, Akaashi doesn’t reply. He twirls the string on his right pinky a few times before letting it fall to the ground, and he downs the rest of the bitter, lukewarm coffee.</p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Next time: Will Bokuto actually make an appearance in this bokuaka fic??? who knowss </p><p> </p><p>The tiger keelback, or <em>yamakagashi</em>: native to east and southeast asia,<em> Rabdophis tigrinus</em> is an oliver-drab green snake that sources its venom from its diet of poisonous toads! Gotta love the name trivia in HQ~</p><p> </p><p>Also: I love how Furudate makes the antagonists so deep and multi-dimensioned and lovable. It makes fic villains so hard to cast! It makes me sad how evil Daishou is in some works, but I also get it-- anyway, my Daishou is more just a smarmy businessman than anything else. Which is more or less his original character anyway! So my conscience is intact.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Chapter 3</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>In which Akaashi and Bokuto have a conversation, and Akaashi is definitely not being a helicopter parent.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>Bokuto is a star. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Akaashi knows this from the moment they first meet, to when Bokuto cheerfully manhandles him into eating lunch with the team, to when they’re chattering in a group, loitering in the evening sun before heading home after practice.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>If at any point the whispers about Bokuto’s family and the sneers about his “unrefined” behaviour reach Akaashi’s ears, Akaashi employs his newfound discovery that his poker face serves well as an icy shutdown when used correctly.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Bokuto’s a star, this much is obvious—not to Akaashi only, but to everyone.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>But, one day Akaashi finds something that maybe others don’t notice about Bokuto. It happens as Bokuto waves to him excitedly on the way to practice. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Akaashi notices a tight feeling around his right pinky, and he idly touches the knuckle with his other hand, expecting to see a loose thread from his jacket. Instead, he sees a ring of red, too bright to be blood. As he raises the hand, he sees the string where it leaves his finger. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>He focuses on it as he walks towards Bokuto, watching as the string sways back and forth in time with Bokuto’s waving… to where it’s bound snugly with a small butterfly bow on Bokuto’s left ring finger. </em>
</p>
<hr/><p>When Akaashi steps into Bokuto’s office, he’s greeted by the wild tangled mess of spiky monochrome hair that is the crown of Bokuto’s head. Bokuto, for his part, begins speaking before he even looks up.</p><p>“Hey, Akaashi?”</p><p>“Yes, Bokuto-san?” Was he expecting Akaashi? Or did he just recognize his footsteps? Perhaps Bokuto has the acute hearing of his namesake bird.</p><p>“Why do you call me that?”</p><p>Akaashi pauses and looks over.</p><p>“You mean… your name?”</p><p>Bokuto rolls over so that he’s lying down, back on the desk, blinking round eyes at Akaashi upside-down.</p><p>“Yea-ah,  it’s my name, but also my mom’s, and my dad’s, and even Hide's.” He rolls over the side of the desk—Akaashi winces as he sees paper flutter to the ground and a small container of pens tip precariously before righting itself—and flips onto the ground. “The thing is, they’re all here! Basically in this building!” </p><p>“Except Hideyoshi-kun.”</p><p>“Yes, except for my baby brother who doesn’t work here because he’s busy in <em>elementary school</em>. But Akaashi,” Bokuto launches towards Akaashi, almost bowling him over with a warm arm over his shoulders. “The point is, we’re all Bokutos. You call my mom by her name!”</p><p>“Hanemi-san requested it of me. I am her assistant.”</p><p>“She just wants to feel young! But we’ve been friends since high school!”</p><p>“Of course,” Akaashi pauses, “Bokuto-san.” </p><p>As Bokuto gives a high-pitched hmph, Akaashi lets himself smirk a fraction of a degree.</p><p>When it becomes clear that Bokuto is neither going to move his weight off of Akaashi’s back nor start talking, Akaashi gently extracts himself.</p><p>“Bokuto-san, I came to discuss something with you. Do you have time for a private conversation?” Akaashi nods towards the door to Bokuto’s office. </p><p>“Yes, of course! Always.” Bokuto cheerfully pulls away to softly close the door, but not before Akaashi sees Sarukui grinning at them through the doorway. Akaashi makes a note to volunteer Sarukui for weekend on-call for Bokuto’s team.</p><p>Akaashi sits on one of the chairs across from Bokuto’s chair, but Bokuto opts to perch on the wide mahogany desk itself. He leans in, and Akaashi catches a whiff of mint on Bokuto’s breath. It doesn’t smell like toothpaste, so maybe gum, or even that revolting sports drink that Bokuto discovered recently…  </p><p>Akaashi jerks backwards before he gets lost in thought. Bokuto doesn’t seem to notice, and Akaashi clears his throat and pulls forward a tablet before he starts.</p><p>“It’s never been your family’s way to force you down a predetermined path.”</p><p>Bokuto hums thoughtfully. “Yep. I do my best to make them proud, though.”</p><p>Akaashi nods, heart a little heavy as he pulls out the tablet he’s been gripping to his side. “They are. I know it.” He huffs out a quick breath. “So, with that in mind, please take a look at this.”</p><p>Bokuto tilts his head, then glances over at the screen. “Whaddya mean? What’s this?” </p><p>Akaashi swipes through a few screenshots of the articles that Daishou had brought up, as well as a few other writings he found himself. </p><p>“You’re in the eye of the public quite a lot, Bokuto-san. It’s not a bad thing, but some of these images might hurt you in the long run.”</p><p>Bokuto takes the tablet, frowning as he looks through—at first. He breaks into a bright grin before laughing, “Wow! I’m basically a celebrity! Should I start wearing sunglasses and a baseball cap everywhere?”</p><p>“No, that—Bokuto-san, Daishou-san brought me these.”</p><p>“Wha-at? Daishou-san’s my fan? Or…” Bokuto gasps. “No… he a creepy stalker? He’s married, though!”</p><p>Akaashi winces at the leaps in logic. “No. He wants to know if you’d like to meet his brother-in-law. To… consider a potential long term relationship. It would mitigate some of these rumors.”</p><p>Bokuto whips his head to look at Akaashi. His forehead pinches in confusion, but he doesn't say anything. </p><p>"I looked him up.” Akaashi swipes and taps on the tablet until a profile fills the screen. A grinning fox logo briefly lights up the browser before it’s replaced by a grid of photos. “Daishou was very quick to praise his accomplishments, and he is also very good-looking. I'm not sure what your type is, given the rather eclectic set of people you've been seeing—"</p><p>"Is that what this is about? The dating?" Bokuto is still holding the tablet in his lap, but he's looking quizzically down at Akaashi. “It’s OK, Akaashi. I promise I'm being safe. And I always text you at the end of the night, don't I? I always keep you up to date."</p><p>Akaashi pinches his mouth. Whether it's Bokuto's safety or… other reasons… he doesn't like his friend's frequent excursions. But that’s not why he’s here. "Bokuto, the longer this goes on, the more likely the public will see, and that would be very damaging to your reputation."</p><p>Bokuto frowns. "I mean… I don't really care what the public thinks of me. I'm a nice guy! I like making people happy. They can figure out the truth themselves easily enough."</p><p>It's Akaashi's turn to frown, and he stands up to be at eye level with Bokuto. "The media isn't always so kind, Bokuto-san. And Daishou-san is not wrong. If you like his brother-in-law, a relationship with him would be ideal in a number of ways."</p><p>Bokuto's face has crumpled into a small pout. As cute as it is, Akaashi can't let Bokuto grump out of the conversation.</p><p>Akaashi takes a small breath. "As a friend."</p><p>Bokuto looks up. "Hwa?"</p><p>"As a friend, I'm long overdue to introduce you to someone, aren't I?" He keeps a placid expression focused on Bokuto.</p><p>Bokuto's eyes are wide, eyebrows threatening to fly off his face entirely. "What—you're my best friend, Akaashi! But… " He looks down at the tablet again. "I dunno… I guess you caught me by surprise. You've never introduced me to anyone before." </p><p>Akaashi pinches his mouth shut and looks down at his hands. He's fidgeting again, the skin on his right pinky flushing pink with the pressure. </p><p>"Like I mentioned earlier, you should not let anyone, including me, decide what’s best for you. But, I have only your best interests at heart, Bokuto-san."</p><p>Bokuto now levels him a slightly guilty look, and Akaashi’s heart wrenches a little. </p><p>“I’ve really made you worry, huh?” Bokuto says softly. “I guess, then. Alright. I’ll meet him, this…” He glances at the tablet again, “Yamaka Akio.”</p><p>“That’s good. We’ll discuss the meeting details later.” Akaashi nods again, almost to himself. He gathers the tablet and walks to the door briskly. “Have a good day, Bokuto-san. You know how to reach me.” He doesn't look back at Bokuto as he steps outside and quickly walks away.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I wonder what he would have seen if he had looked back? </p><p>Next time: Obligatory owl cafe!</p><p>And, Bokuto totally doesn't know what eclectic (diverse, varied) means. He probably inferred that it means "large" or "numerous" or something! Well, the general idea got through, though.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Chapter 4</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>In which Akaashi takes a nap.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>That night, he writes his first entry on Bokuto into his logs. This row of neat, black print sits on its own new page, titled “Red.” </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Flipping back, Akaashi reviews the summaries of his findings. </em>
</p>
<ul>
<li><em>Blues for rivalry. </em></li>
</ul>
<ul>
<li><em>Deep greens for envy. </em></li>
</ul>
<ul>
<li><em>Yellows and lime for friendship. </em></li>
</ul><p>
  <em>A note that the strings stretch but don’t seem to break. Akaashi wonders idly if it would be too tongue-in-cheek to name his notebook “String Theory.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>When, later, he looks over the past few months’ records, Akaashi thinks that it was rather inevitable that they’d be so dominated by stories of Bokuto. It’s all so that he can divine the meaning of the red-colored strings, he tells himself. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>He has a guess, but romantic tropes be damned—he can’t get ahead of himself. He needs evidence.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>He gives the Bokuto records their own numbering system, and logs that day’s conclusions under “BK #1”.</em>
</p>
<hr/><p>The first time they saw the Citrus Owl Cafe, Komi had doubled over in laughter, giving his best Bokuto impression while pointing at the little owl logo perched in the capital “O”. As it turned out, the small shop nestled into the street was home to a small army of the fluffiest, brightest-eyed, and most charming predators of the night sky.</p><p>Bokuto had cried with joy, cooing over one hooting handful to the next. And Akaashi should have seen it coming, but the next week, Bokuto had fidgeted with his phone for an entire afternoon before Akaashi suggested that they try to find the cafe again.</p><p>What Bokuto doesn’t know, and what Akaashi doesn’t plan on telling him, is that Akaashi often drops by in the mornings on his days off. The cafe’s signature hot orange tea is surprisingly delicious, and the store is peaceful before the petting section opens. </p><p>He’s sitting here today, nestled in the back corner behind a bookshelf. He’s idly glancing through his phone when he hears the door jingle open. The red string on his hand swings towards the door. When he catches a glimpse of a shock of familiar grey hair, he ducks behind the shelf and peeks through the books instead.</p><p>Bokuto’s companion is easily recognizable, as well. With soft chestnut hair and thick eyelashes, Yamaka Akio couldn’t be anyone other than Daishou Mika’s brother. His back is to Akaashi.</p><p>Akaashi quickly abandons the idea of leaving them to their privacy. For one, he’d have to walk past them to leave the store. And, he’d be lying if he said his curiosity didn’t tie him down firmly to his seat. </p><p>He can’t hear much beyond murmurs, but he can see the corner of Bokuto’s face. He’s wearing a bright smile as he chats, surprisingly at an appropriate volume for the quiet cafe. Akaashi’s neck begins to crick, and he settles back into his seat. </p><p>He hears a peal of laughter from the table, and he straightens up again to peek. Yamaka’s giggling, and Bokuto is bashfully rubbing the back of his head, blushing. </p><p>Yamaka reaches over and pulls Bokuto’s hand down, holding it in his own. Bokuto looks surprised, but he smiles and continues talking softly.</p><p>Akaashi forces himself to sit down again. A hollow feeling sinks through his body, but he’s familiar with it. He’s been here before. There can only be two ways this plays out:</p>
<ol>
<li>The date ends, and so does the couple’s correspondence. Bokuto mopes for a day, at most, picking at his own personal faults and lamenting the evasiveness of romance.</li>
<li>The date is a hit. Bokuto is enamoured, and the two enter a relationship.</li>
</ol><p>To be fair, Akaashi has never seen the second in person—not since high school, anyway. Given Bokuto’s recently extensive history with blind dates and meet-ups, the odds that Yamaka would break the trend was low, but… </p><p>If he chose to turn Yamaka down, that’s fine. If the two begin dating… that’s also fine. That’s good. It would give the media something to gush over instead of leer at, and even Bokuto’s parents would be happy to see their son with someone he loves, someone he can trust.</p><p><em>Bokuto trusts you, Akaashi</em>, a traitorous voice whispers in his mind. The red string itches on his right hand.</p><p>Akaashi sighs softly and rubs his eyes. <em>Maybe. Maybe he shouldn’t, though</em>. Bokuto’s trust is a precious thing, and Akaashi would go to the ends of the earth to protect it. Whichever choice is made, it would be Bokuto’s. Akaashi had vowed to be Bokuto’s support, never a burden. </p><p>He suddenly feels a wave of exhaustion. He numbly moves the teacup and his laptop to the side, nestling his head in his arms on the table.</p>
<hr/><p>
  <em>A wild mood grips him as he’s changing into his gym uniform before afternoon practice one day.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Sometimes things really are just as simple as they seem. What else could red possibly mean, after all?</em>
</p><p>
  <em>And the string runs two ways. So, if Bokuto shines as brightly as he does in Akaashi’s eyes, wouldn’t it be alright to assume that one day… Bokuto could look Akaashi's way too?</em>
</p><p>
  <em>He has decided. He's going to say it. He'll tell Bokuto everything.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Akaashi dashes down the hallway, barely registering the surprised faces floating past him. He catches snippets as he rounds a corner neatly, dodging the students still milling about in the hallways before filtering into their clubs or heading back home.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“That first year… from class four…”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“He’s faster than I thought—”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“That goody-two shoes?”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“They’re out of milk in the vending machine today…”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>His club jacket flaps behind him as he feels the wind pull a small grin onto his face. He must look crazy.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>It’s exhilarating. He’s never felt so out of breath, not like this, even on the volleyball court. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>He bounds up one final flight of stairs towards the second years’ classrooms. It’s unlike Bokuto to be late to practice, but Akaashi is more than happy to go to him—grateful, even, for the chance to surprise him.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Ah! Akaashi-kun!”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Akaashi stops himself in the hallway, a few doors from Bokuto’s classroom. He turns around to see a familiar freckled girl smiling at him. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>He straightens up, breath evening out from his short sprint. “Suzumeda-senpai.” He gives a short bow.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“I’ve told you before! Just Kaori is fine.” Kaori turns around and motions for her friends to head on first, a yellow string springing into view on her left index finger. She beams at Akaashi, eyes crinkled. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Eh… that’s the gossip face. Take it easy on the poor first-year, Kaori-chan, don’t be late~” The red-haired girl at the tail end of the group calls back to Kaori. The yellow string anchored on her wrist pulls thinner and thinner as she rounds the corner, but Akaashi can still see its other end firmly tied on Kaori’s hand.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Oh, hush, Yukie-chan!” Kaori spins back to face Akaashi. “Speaking of which—how did you already get changed and make it back here? Ah, never mind. You’re pretty close to Bokuto, right?” Her eyes glitter in excitement.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Akaashi pauses. The second years know him as Bokuto’s friend? They think they’re especially close? He briefly feels a flush threaten to spread to his face. “Is Bokuto-san not in the classroom?”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Nope!” She smiles conspiratorially, leaning in to whisper, “Spring’s come for that airhead, Akaashi-kun!”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Akaashi’s already still body freezes.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Kaori giggles. “I know, shocking, right? A girl from the next class called him out today. I bet they’re near, so we have time to ambush Bokuto before he gets back to the gym.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Akaashi blinks, willing the muscles in his body to turn back from stone. He fidgets with the knot around his pinky. The string is thin, but taut.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Kaori gasps and looks at her watch, the yellow thread flickering into view again along with a collection of other colours visible on the other fingers. “Ah, no, I’m really gonna be late. I still have to get my gym clothes—” She looks back to Akaashi. “I’m going to run. See you at practice, alright? If I make it there early we should still interrogate Bokuto!”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>As she runs off, Akaashi feels the stiffness drop from his body, leaving only a lingering exhaustion. He glances down at his right hand and sees the red string, vivid as ever against his fingers. It pulls down the stairs, towards the front of the school.</em>
</p>
<hr/><p>“Akaashi?”</p><p>Akaashi lifts his head up, immediately finding himself face-to-face with wide, round eyes pulled into a worried expression.</p><p>Akaashi inhales, immediately smoothing his cardigan down and wiping the sleep from his eyes. The sun has moved higher in the sky, and more guests have filed into the front of the store before the opening of the owl-petting section.</p><p>“Bokuto-san. Hello. Sorry, I was just…” he looks vaguely at the table. “... resting.”</p><p>“Are you alright, Akaashi?” Bokuto quickly sits down next to him. “I didn’t see you come in here. Do you want me to walk you home? You don’t sleep enough—”</p><p>Akaashi quiets Bokuto with a hand to his upper arm. “Thank you, Bokuto. But I’m alright.”</p><p>Akaashi glances around him at the cafe, suddenly remembering why Bokuto was here. “Ah… I thought you had your date with Yamaka-san today. I didn't mean to eavesdrop, it was difficult to leave," he adds quickly. It's a weak excuse. He could have introduced himself and walked past. </p><p>“Oh! Don't worry, it looks like you weren't listening anyway." Bokuto flushes. "And, it's fine, he left a few minutes ago.”</p><p>Akaashi looks at Bokuto.</p><p>“What? He said he had somewhere to be after this, so I didn’t need to walk him home, and then I noticed that the waiter was kind of looking around this way… ”</p><p>Ah, so even the staff at his favourite cafe were worried about him. Akaashi makes a mental note to make his apology later.</p><p>“Will you stay in touch?” Akaashi asks Bokuto. He can’t look up, so he focuses on cleaning up his belongings on the table.</p><p>Bokuto looks off to the side, scratching the back of his head in a familiar embarrassed movement. “Ah… nah. I don’t think we will.”</p><p>This makes Akaashi snap his head up. His hands slow down.</p><p>“Yeah, uh… he was cool and all. Really pretty actually! He uh… he really is famous on Foxtrot, you know? He’s really… savvy?”</p><p>Akaashi tilts his head at Bokuto.</p><p>Bokuto humphs a little. “Alright, fine, he just kept laughing, right? I get that soulmates and stuff are a bit childish, but…” He looks away. “I like when people are happy around me, but he didn’t have to laugh that hard…”</p><p>Akaashi stares at him blankly. He wants to laugh.</p><p>He allows himself a little chuckle.</p><p>“Hey! Not you too, Akaashi!”</p><p>Akaashi smoothes his expression and waves Bokuto off. “Daishou-san will be disappointed. You should consider giving Yamaka-san a second chance.”</p><p>Bokuto shakes his head as the two stand to leave. “Nah, I’m good. I just… didn’t get that feeling with him, you know? Like, <em>gwaah</em>?”</p><p>“That’s rather childish, Bokuto-san.”</p><p>“Akaashi!” Bokuto practically whines as Akaashi turns, leading them both not towards the front door, but the back area towards the owls instead.</p><p>Bokuto gasps as he realizes where they’re heading. “Oh, are we seeing the owls today?” </p><p>Akaashi feels a small grin threaten to tug at his lips as he sees Bokuto’s eyes practically glitter in the low light. </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Next time: the knights of the round table!</p><p>Out of all the F/F ships, I think Kaori and Yukippe is one of the best ones (chapter 392!) But I’m also a big fan of Wholesome Female Friendships, so that’s what’s going on here. Unfortunately, they’re not that cute gay couple from the prologue! Sorry.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Chapter 5</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>In which nobody wants to admit it, but Oikawa’s sense for naming things is actually pretty good.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>Akaashi continues to keep logs, but by the entrance ceremony of his second year, he decides that he should really stop writing down so many facts about Bokuto.</em>
</p><p>BK#9: Bokuto-san loves attention from crowds.</p><p>BK#10: Bokuto-san doesn’t handle crowds of girls well, but he still seems happy among them.</p><p>BK#13: Bokuto-san is a romantic at heart.</p><p>BK#19: Bokuto-san doesn’t forget birthdays.</p><p>BK#20: Bokuto-san is capable of baking cupcakes.</p><p>BK#21: Bokuto-san treasures his loved ones dearly.</p><p>
  <em>Akaashi shakes his head at the memory, smiling a bit. Bokuto had tried many, many failed batches before he finally created something not only edible, but tasty, for his girlfriend’s birthday. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Akaashi had been roped into helping and was rewarded with his own cupcake, complete with a surprisingly intricate icing owl.</em>
</p>
<hr/><p>“Hey, hey, hey!” Bokuto booms through the front door.</p><p>“Bokuto-san,” Kageyama appears in the doorway, sullen and dark, wearing one of the many blue hoodies that seem to make up the majority of his casual wear. He hands a bag of shrimp chips over to Bokuto.</p><p>“Hurry up,” Tsukishima appears behind Kageyama. He nods to Bokuto. “Thanks for inviting us.”</p><p>“Of course, I’m glad my guests could make it!”</p><p>“Your guests?” Kuroo’s voice practically carries his smirk across the room. “It’s my apartment, airhead.”</p><p>“Thanks again, Kuroo!” Bokuto laughs as he returns to the living room, sitting down on the ground next to the ottoman where Akaashi is currently seated. </p><p>Akaashi nods to the two arrivals as they seat themselves on opposite sides of the table in front of the TV, currently playing a collegiate volleyball match. </p><p>“Where’s Kenma-san?” Kageyama inquires after craning his neck to look around the apartment. “Hinata asked me to borrow a game from him.”</p><p>“Ah… Kenma’s visiting his parents today.” Kuroo says as he brings a tray of tempura forwards to add to the already-overflowing table of takeout.</p><p>Akaashi notices that Kuuro’s string, wound around his left pinky, seems to be snaking over to the hallway where the bathroom and bedrooms are. Interesting, but not something to comment on right now.</p><p>Kageyama shrugs. “Alright. I’ll message him later,” he comments as he grabs a glass and pours himself milk. Akaashi had brought it out in anticipation of this particular guest, but he didn’t expect him to also pick up a can of beer, chugging it before chasing it with the milk.</p><p>Bokuto and Akaashi stare at him before Bokuto laughs, “Woah! Kageyama-kun… why?” Kageyama finishes the milk, almost choking in the process.</p><p>Akaashi thumps his back, subtly moving the rest of the beer away from Kageyama. </p><p>Kageyama manages to choke out, “The beer tasted bad, so…”</p><p>As Kageyama’s coughs fade away, Bokuto quickly glances over at Tsukishima. “Hope you don’t also have some weird drinking habits?”</p><p>The man in question raises an eyebrow from the other side of the table as he drinks from a glass of water. “I only drink Kahlua and milk.”</p><p>Kuroo laughs as he finishes shuttling food and drinks from the kitchen. “Cheap beer or nothing tonight, dude. Anyways. Who’re we waiting on?”</p><p>As Bokuto starts counting heads, Akaashi cuts in. “Sawamura-san, Suga-san, and Oikawa-san.”</p><p>Bokuto beams. “Right! Akaashi’s so organized.”</p><p>“Or, you’re just dumb,” Kuroo shrugs. Bokuto hoots indignantly. “Anyway, how’s the new job, baby crows?” He gestures at Kageyama and Tsukishima with his chopsticks.</p><p>Kageyama’s eyes glitter a little. “It’s going well. I’ve gotten to meet professionals I’ve looked up to in university, and Suga-<em>buchou</em> said I could join the project for Johzenji’s newest promotional project.”</p><p>Tsukishima smirks. “You think you can handle working on a team with Shrimpy?” </p><p>Akaashi raises a questioning eyebrow at Kageyama.</p><p>Kageyama scowls into his empty glass of milk. When he says nothing, Tsukishima rolls his eyes. “Hinata’s a new guy on my team. He flies over from backgrounds to wreak havoc with Kageyama every other day. I don’t know how they even find each other when King Gloomy here’s in 3D and Hinata’s in a whole other wing,” Tsukishima adds flatly. </p><p>Kageyama sends Tsukishima an angry glare. “I have a lot to learn from the artists on Sawamura-senpai’s team.”</p><p>“Maybe work on your own job first.”</p><p>Kageyama’s face settles even deeper into his frown, and Tsukishima smiles wryly over his drink.</p><p>A knock on the door interrupts him. “Speak of the devil?” Kuroo walks over to welcome the last few guests.</p><p>“Kuroo!” Daichi stands in the front, a smile plastered over his face as he shakes Kuroo’s hand. “Thanks for having us, man.”</p><p>“Sa’amura. How’s your shoulder from this week’s game?” Kuroo’s face is stretched into its own Cheshire grin. “Took a lot of strain from that last spike, eh?”</p><p>“Ah, worth it for the <em>win</em>, you know how it is.” The two don’t let go, veins practically popping in their hands.</p><p>“Alright, alright. Oh, Kageyama, Tsukishima! You’re already here!” Suga pushes the two through the door, removing his shoes and bringing the bag of drinks to the table.</p><p>“Ah, Tobio-chan!” The last voice passes over Suga’s head. Oikawa’s smile sharpens into something feral as he lights his eyes on his underclassman. “Have you been working on your shoddy rigging? You’ll need to, before you work for me, you know.”</p><p>Kageyama’s mouth pinches even more before he reluctantly speaks. “I have. I’m… looking forward… to working with you… on the Johzenji project.”</p><p>Oikawa grins and sits down, placing the snacks he had brought on the table and nabbing a pair of chopsticks for himself. “Great to hear, Tobio~”</p><p>Suga smiles over at Kageyama. “Well, I think you’re an excellent fit for the project. Your work actually complements Hinata’s bright, dynamic style quite well.”</p><p>“And you’re practically attached at the hip at this point, anyways,” Daichi adds with a mischievous smile.</p><p>Bokuto perks up as everyone settles back around the table.</p><p>“Eh? Kageyama’s friend? You could totally have invited him. I don’t mind.”</p><p>“My house, Bokuto,” Kuroo interjects. “But yeah, Hinata’s welcome.”</p><p>Kageyama huffs and picks up his glass of milk again. Akaashi notes that the carton is almost empty at this point.</p><p>“Kageyama’s just embarrassed.” Suga shrugs as he grabs a cup of noodles, eyeing its contents before claiming it and digging in. “I told him that he could learn more from the 2D animators if he acted more… approachable once in a while.”</p><p>Daichi adds, “The trick is that Hinata, at least, can be bribed with candy.”</p><p>Is Kageyama blushing? It’s hard to tell with the light, but a faint pink seems to be creeping down his neck. As he scratches his ear Akaashi can’t help but notice the loose red string winding from his index finger down his forearm, drifting off south before fading out of view.</p><p>“Well… wait, what’s the problem, then? Seems like Kageyama finally made a friend,” Kuroo mumbles over a mouthful of rice.</p><p>Suga gives a knowing look at Kageyama. “Yes, Kageyama. What is the problem? You’ve managed to win Hinata over, and now he at least eats lunch with you and punches you in a <em>friendly</em> way in addition to the usual bickering.”</p><p>“He’ll probably do anything you ask now that you keep showing up with a bag of chocolates in hand,” Daichi adds, then frowns. “It’s a miracle that Hinata hasn’t practically vibrated through the walls, actually.” He eyes Kageyama with a sudden look of concern. “I hope you’ve been keeping under the daily max of 2 candies a day.”</p><p>Kageyama nods sullenly. </p><p>Daichi turns to Suga. “And you! Couldn’t you have suggested anything other than candy? Something with less sugar, maybe?” </p><p>Suga beams back. “And why should I? Sweets for your sweetheart, and all that.” </p><p>Kageyama’s definitely blushing now. Oikawa grabs a bowl of rice and tears into his own food. “I suggested chocolate in particular. Tobio-chan, stubborn as he is, will listen to my advice,” he smirks.</p><p>Suga takes pity and pats Kageyama’s head. “Don’t worry, I won’t stop you from visiting Hinata. You’re not breaking any rules, anyway.”</p><p>“Well, free candy is great! I’m sure he loves it!” Bokuto chimes in cheerfully.</p><p>Oikawa and Kuroo begin cackling, and Suga nudges Akaashi in his side. </p><p>Akaashi pointedly ignores Suga and instead levels his blank face at Bokuto. “Bokuto-san, what are we meeting today for?’</p><p>Bokuto claps his hands together, chopsticks in his mouth. He pulls them out and smiles at everyone. “Right! I’ve got a request for the Round Table.”</p><p>Oikawa nods. “Gotta love that name. My idea, if you recall.”</p><p>Suga rolls his eyes. “Shut up, Oikawa. What is it, Bokuto?”</p><p>Bokuto clears his throat. “So, it has recently come to my attention that I’m incredibly popular.” He ignores Kuroo’s snort before continuing, “... well, based on photos and Foxtrot and gossip blogs. Yadda yadda, long story short, I need a fake boyfriend.”</p><p>Chopsticks freeze in midair, drinks are forgotten in loose grips. Oikawa starts coughing, and Suga whacks him on the back.</p><p>One by one, faces turn towards Akaashi for an explanation.</p><p>Akaashi, of course, has only two-thirds of an idea of what Bokuto is trying to get at—but he can infer the rest, so he resigns himself to explaining the situation. </p><p>“This is probably related to the meeting with Daishou Suguru-san.”</p><p>“What?” Kuroo exclaims, choking on his beer. “That slithery bastard?”</p><p>Akaashi quickly glances at Bokuto, who confidently nods his agreement. Akaashi sighs a little.</p><p>“The other day, Daishou-san brought to our attention how much attention Bokuto-san seems to be garnering in the media, especially regarding his… romantic endeavours.</p><p>“Given the hugely positive reception of Daishou-san’s relationship and the happy couple’s subsequent wedding…”</p><p>“Punny!” Suga interjects. Daichi elbows him and Suga shuts up with a soft “Ow!”</p><p>“... he proposed that Bokuto-san date his younger brother-in-law. An opportunity that Bokuto-san ungraciously rejected last week.”</p><p>“Hey!” Bokuto interrupts. “We just weren’t a fit, okay? And that applies to this whole—” he flutters his hands in circles around his head. “—<em>thing</em>. I know you probably want to judge me for how many dates I’ve been on—”</p><p>“Not for the reasons you might think,” Suga murmurs, side-eyeing Akaashi. Akaashi continues to ignore him, sipping his own beer.</p><p>“—but seriously! I’ve been respectful, and so has everyone I’ve seen.” </p><p>Akaashi takes over the exposition again. “Yes, and the problem still stands that Bokuto-san’s love life will only attract more and more attention from the press. And, while he didn’t inform me of this plan,” he glares briefly at Bokuto, who flinches just a little, “the intent seems to be that he can reap the best of both worlds by ‘dating’ an understanding friend while continuing to search for his fated soulmate.”</p><p>Tsukishima snickers at the last sentence, and Suga smacks him on the back of his head. </p><p>The rest of the table remains silent, looking back and forth between Bokuto and Akaashi. </p><p>“So… are we bringing out the <em>sekihan</em>? Celebrate… this<em>?</em>” Daichi waves his drink towards the two of them. Suga looks like he’s holding his breath, and his eyes twitch at Daichi’s gesture.</p><p>“Or fake red rice? We can use green beans instead,” Tsukishima chimes in. Daichi gives him a disbelieving look.</p><p>Oikawa eyes Bokuto carefully, then lets his eyes flick to Akaashi. “Soulmates, huh.”</p><p>“Right!” Bokuto says cheerfully. “You’re all wonderful people, so… aside from Suga and Daicchan, anybody willing to volunteer, help a friend out?”</p><p>A pause.</p><p>“…What’s going on? I thought Aka—” Oikawa slaps his hand over Kageyama’s mouth before the younger man, now pulling at Oikawa’s hand, can finish. He returns his glare to Akaashi’s face.</p><p>Akaashi frowns into his beer before downing the rest in one gulp. He looks up at Bokuto, who is giving him a hopeful, wide-eyed look.</p><p>Akaashi picks up a third beer and collects his nerves.</p><p>“I suggest Kuroo-san.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Extra update! It's halfway between Friday and Monday anyway. </p><p>Next time: Hey remember how Akaashi never finished reminiscing about that time Bokuto got confessed to in high school—</p><p>So, this chapter originally had Hinata present instead of Kageyama. The hardest difference to reconcile was that Hinata was ready to chug beer like the Big Kids, but I can’t imagine Kageyama drinking anything other than milk. So… beer chaser… bleagh…</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Chapter 6</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>In which Akaashi isn’t too good to eavesdrop, actually.</p><p>A brief interlude, flashing back to high school before we return to the present time next chapter.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>Akaashi Keiji, 15, 1st year at Roman Academy</em>
</p><p>He knows it’s invasive, that it’s not something a good friend should do. But…</p><p>Akaashi slips down the stairs and through the hallway to the front of the school. He’s not running, but he passes by the remaining students with a quiet, determined speed before finding himself hiding behind a locker. He barely glimpses a flash of grey and black hair and golden eyes before he holds his breath and ducks out of view.</p><p>“—and I saw you at the last game. It’s so cool that you’re a starter even though you’re a second year!”</p><p>“Hey, that’s right!” Akaashi can practically hear the grin on Bokuto’s face. “I’m not as good as our current ace, but I’ve been really working on my cross shots lately, and it’s gonna feel so good when I slam one down during nationals this year.”</p><p>Strictly speaking, this is unlikely. While Akaashi loves volleyball and the club, Roman Academy is not a school famous for its athletic program. The volleyball club had never made it to nationals before, even with its few enthusiastic, talented stars— </p><p>A soft giggle. “I know you’ll be the hero of the game, Bokkun! Your parents must be so proud of you.”</p><p>Akaashi’s breath catches. The nickname is short and sweet, dripping with adoration.</p><p>“Aww, thanks! Well, the preliminaries haven’t started yet, but we’re gonna qualify for sure. We’ve got a great team!” Bokuto’s confidence is contagious, and Akaashi is immediately drawn into an image of their team colours on center court.</p><p>A small pause in the conversation, and a light shuffling sound of feet scuffing the floor.</p><p>“Bokkun, I called you out here to tell you something.”</p><p>“Hm?” </p><p>Akaashi knows what’s coming next, and it feels like he’s standing on a skyscraper balcony, leaning downwards— </p><p>“Have you heard of the red string of fate?”</p><p>If Akaashi were breathing, he’d choke. <em>Where did that come from?</em></p><p>“Ooh, fated couples? I think I saw it in a movie, once.”</p><p>Akaashi snaps to attention, questions whirling in his head. Why is she bringing up strings? Does she know something about him, about Bokuto? He decides to risk peeking around the wall of lockers.</p><p>The girl has soft black hair in a round bob. She’s holding up her left pinky towards Bokuto. Wrapped around it is a curl of blues, yellows… and…</p><p>Akaashi wants to pretend that he doesn’t see the red, the second instance he’s ever found. But as he blinks and tries to focus on the string, he sees the telltale color veer off. Out the front door, past the gates… away from Bokuto.</p><p>“It represents fated soulmates, yeah. And… this is pretty heavy stuff, but, I think we're connected. I like you, Bokkun. Would you go out with me?” The request is soft, gentle, but somehow… confident.</p><p>Bokuto flails around, eyebrows shooting up comically. “Ah! Wow! Um… That’s…”</p><p>The girl tilts her head. “Just a few dates! So that we get to know each other.” She clasps her hands in front of her chest. “Please give me this chance!”</p><p>“Ah…” Bokuto is smiling, a blush spreading across his cheeks. Akaashi ducks behind the lockers again. “Well, I’ll be in your care then.”</p><p>Akaashi stares down at his hand, and he worries his pinky where the string pulls tight.</p><p>He quietly stands and slips away behind a group of lingering students, letting the conversation he’d come to hear fade away behind him.</p>
<hr/><p>It's unintentional, seeing the person at the other end of her string.</p><p>He had wanted to follow it, every time she giggled with her girlfriends about dating the heir of a massive company. He found himself staring at her fingers as she carded through Bokuto’s hair, as she waved goodbye instead of walking home with Bokuto—  </p><p>He sees the string pull taut across the hallway as she passes a boy heading the other direction, the two barely glancing at each other. He recognizes the boy as the soft-spoken library volunteer.</p><p>When those two start spending more time together, he notices a change in her demeanor. Glittering smiles and sweet words turn into distracted musings and flushed guilt. </p><p>Akaashi had spent so much time fretting over red strings and those around Bokuto that he had not noticed Bokuto himself, hopes rising higher and higher before the precipice. </p><p>She ends her relationship with Bokuto shortly after.</p>
<hr/><p>
  <em>BK#21: Bokuto-san treasures his loved ones dearly.</em>
</p><p>“Bokuto-san.”</p><p>Bokuto is sniffing messily, head down in his arms on Akaashi’s desk in his room. </p><p>“Bokuto-san,” Akaashi repeats gently. “Please drink some water.”</p><p>Bokuto doesn’t move for a few moments, but he eventually lifts his head and accepts the bottle. His eyes are dull and his face is blotchy, but he breathes in and lets out a long, heavy sigh.</p><p>“Akaashi,” Bokuto begins, shoulders hunched. “Why did she even say that?”</p><p>“What do you mean?”</p><p>“When she asked me out, I mean. You know how I always talk about how it felt like we were meant to be? It made so much sense, that there are these strings connecting soulmates together.” </p><p>Bokuto slumps back down onto one arm. “I looked it up. She might have been lying about being able to see strings, but some people out there really can see ‘em.” Akaashi makes a mental note to look it up himself later. </p><p>“Some people have matching birthmarks,” Bokuto continues. “Some others have this weird… psychic connection when they’re born, others have telltale phrases or things on their body. The universe really likes a lucky few.”</p><p>Akaashi isn’t sure if lucky is the word he’d pick.</p><p>“Well, there’s also this disease where you cough up flowers if the one you love doesn’t love you back,” Bokuto adds, rolling his head so his chin presses on the table.</p><p>“That sounds very painful.”</p><p>“Yeah. So… anyway, if these strings are out there, I thought it’d be great if there was one between us. A soulmate, right? A forever partner, someone to trust and protect… Honestly? It sounds… cool, like out of those hero manga.” Bokuto sighs.</p><p><em>BK#13, Bokuto is a romantic at heart.</em> </p><p>“It’s easy to understand why she brought that story up, Bokuto-san.”</p><p>“Huh?”</p><p>Akaashi shuffles his fingers around, letting the red string tangle. “It helped her stand out. You’ve always liked these romantic stories.” </p><p>Bokuto exclaims, “What! No way. A sincere confession was all she needed…”</p><p>Bokuto trails off, and Akaashi doesn’t speak up.</p><p>Bokuto groans and dips his head down again. “Sincere, huh. Did you notice anything, Akaashi? Did you know that she was… ” His voice slowly fades off.</p><p>Akaashi remains silent, pulling at his right pinky. </p><p>“Agh!” Bokuto lets out a muffled shout into his arms. He sighs and glares at Akaashi. “Tell me next time, okay? I get it! It’s hard to approach a guy about his girlfriend. But Akaashi, I swear, I’ll listen to you no matter what.”</p><p>Bokuto sighs, then continues. “But I couldn’t even get mad at her, you know. I saw her, the other day.” He sits up, apparently tired of talking with his chin on the table. “With that library kid. They’re different from me and her, you know?”</p><p>Akaashi says nothing, and waits for Bokuto to continue. He had seen them too, sparkling red thread wound around their wrists as they held hands.</p><p>“You can see it in the way she looks at him. And the way he looks at her. I don’t know, somehow it’s something that I just couldn’t do. Forget fated soulmates, I think I’m just doomed to be unlovable.”</p><p>That's ridiculous. </p><p>"You aren't doomed. She's not the one your red string is tied to."</p><p>Bokuto snaps his head over to face Akaashi. "What? How do you know?"</p><p>"Ah…"</p><p>Akaashi suddenly feels the weight of those tear-rimmed eyes on him, curious and hopeful. Is it alright to tell him about their connection? </p><p>But the rest of Bokuto’s face, drawn and exhausted, stops the words in Akaashi’s throat.</p><p>Akaashi feels a wave of shame as he considers his own ulterior motives. Bokuto is <em>crying</em> over a breakup with a partner who imparted… if not a trauma, then at least a bad taste in Bokuto’s mouth for the whole red string idea.</p><p>Akaashi can't burden Bokuto with his own feelings. That is the unthinkable. So with this in mind, there's only one option.</p><p>“Bokuto-san,” Akaashi begins tentatively. “What I meant to say is that fate is a fickle thing. Maybe you aren’t the right one for her, but if you’ve learnt anything from this, she’s…” Akaashi hesitates before continuing, “She is not the right one for you, either.”</p><p>Bokuto turns forlornly towards Akaashi for a second before furiously rubbing his hand over his eyes.</p><p>“So what, I’m supposed to just wait for fate to drop my soulmate into my lap whenever? That’s so…” Bokuto waves his hands in front of him, face scrunched in frustration. “So… lame. You can’t do anything about it? Practice, or train?”</p><p>“I don’t think—” </p><p>“What the heck! That’s annoying. Beyond annoying. That’s not how I do things. You know what?” Bokuto straightens up suddenly. “Screw red strings, or whatever. I don’t care what some dumb fortune says. I’m not waiting for someone to just show up late to the party.”</p><p>Akaashi spares a quick glance at the string between them.</p><p>“I’ll find my soulmate on my own! No fate needed!” Bokuto shouts.</p><p>“That’s… that’s a little contradictory—”</p><p>“I’ll build my own happiness with my bare hands!” </p><p>Akaashi nods weakly. Well, whatever works to improve his mood. </p><p>His eyes drift back to the string. It loops gently over Akaashi's hand onto the kotatsu, tangling a bit in Bokuto's no-longer-drooping hair before falling over his shoulder and into his left hand. </p><p>"Is there something on my head?" Bokuto asks, eyes blinking wide.</p><p>Akaashi catches his breath and realizes that he has reached over to pull the string off. It falls limply onto the table between them.</p><p>"Ah… just a piece of lint."</p><p>"Hm, didja get it?" Bokuto tilts his head towards Akaashi, and Akaashi’s palm is suddenly full of unexpectedly soft hair. Really—how is this head of gravity-defying spikes actually soft? He jerks his hand back before he can forget himself and, god forbid, start <em>carding</em> his hands through the grey locks.</p><p>But Bokuto would probably be happy to let him. He trusts Akaashi completely, and Akaashi is less and less sure he deserves it. He couldn’t prevent Bokuto from being hurt this time, and he keeps so many secrets from him besides.</p><p>But, Bokuto does seem to be feeling better right now.</p><p><em>BK#3: Bokuto-san will always pick himself up again</em>.</p><p>“Bokuto-san, it’s funny to hear you talk about building yourself up from scratch when you’re the son of the Fuku Hotel Group.” </p><p>“Hey! I do work hard at what I do! I’ve attended night classes, I sit in on my mom’s boring business talks…” </p><p>As Bokuto rambles on, Akaashi puts his hands under the table, keeping the string out of sight. It is too easy to break Bokuto’s heart—or even worse, his trust. </p><p>He can earn it, though. He can support Bokuto, cheer him up, for as long as Bokuto allows their friendship to last. And if this crimson string would cut that short, then…</p><p>Screw red strings, or whatever. </p><p>Akaashi doesn’t care what some dumb fortune says, either.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Next time: we finish up at the Round Table.</p><p>I feel so bad that I made their volleyball team weak, but… this AU be like that. Iwaoi went to a high school with a really shitty athletics department, so… I’m just treating all the kids equally…?</p><p>And on that note, my apologies to Roman Academy of Gekkan Shoujo—sorry that I made your volleyball team bad. Your basketball team is probably fine? </p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. Chapter 7</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>In which we return to the Round Table.</p><p>Oikawa used <em>deflect</em>! Gotta love that guy.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I’ve drawn a cover for this fic. Please check it out <a href="https://twitter.com/DazzleTwig/status/1270711480279859200">here</a>! </p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The table erupts in a storm of coughing, spluttering, and confused exclamations. Kuroo’s surprisingly high-pitched “What the fuck!” rises above the din.</p><p>Daichi is the first to actually speak. “Wait, wait. Kuroo’s your first choice?”</p><p>Akaashi shrugs, and Oikawa leans over to throw his arm over Akaashi’s shoulder, laughing stiffly. “Actually? What’s going on? This cheesy fake-dating plot straight out of a last-decade drama? Are we going to have an angry stepmom throwing down blank checks, too?” </p><p>Akaashi shifts out of Oikawa’s hold. He focuses on the TV in front of him, testing how drunk he feels—just barely tipsy. Everything still feels stable, if just a little… looser.</p><p>He clears his throat. “It makes the most sense. Kuroo-san here has known Bokuto-san for the longest, from middle school summer camps. They trust each other immensely, Kuroo-san himself is well-known and well-liked enough, and they function on the same nonsensical brainwaves.”</p><p>“Hey!” Both Kuroo and Bokuto exclaim.</p><p>“One of Daishou-san’s files even has a candid shot of the two of them exiting that karaoke bar. There’s precedent for this story to grow. The media will eat it up, as you’re both high-ranking officers of very large, well-known brands. And young and attractive, to boot.”</p><p>Bokuto’s jaw is dropping, perhaps at the sheer quantity of words coming out of Akaashi’s mouth.</p><p>“And of course, in Kuroo-san’s interest, you will get to one-up Daishou-san. This is perhaps the least significant part of this whole plot, but I feel that it will be the most compelling factor for you.”</p><p>He now makes eye contact with them both. “So? Your opinion?”</p><p>Bokuto is still shell-shocked, so Kuroo eventually answers. “Well… gosh, Akaashi. I didn’t expect…” </p><p>“It’s not a particularly surprising suggestion. It’s quite logical, really.”</p><p>Kuroo pauses. “Okay… I guess we’ll think about it, right, Bokuto?” He nudges Bokuto, who barely moves. Kuroo sighs. </p><p>“You know what?” Oikawa cuts in. “Kurocchi’s right, the two of them need to talk—and maybe you two as well, eh, Aka-chan?”</p><p>“Well, I’m sure Bokuto-san heard my reasoning just now—”</p><p>“Right, right, but this involves Fuku, so I’m sure you need to do some finalizing, or talking behind closed doors, or whatever it is you company heirs and personal assistants do.”</p><p>“I don’t see the need—”</p><p>“So!” Oikawa exclaims, facing the rest of the room. “That’s that. Great work everyone, meeting adjourned, good progress, et cetera. I think it’s time we move on to something more meaningful, like Tobio-chan here getting crushed at Mario Kart, right?”</p><p>The rowdy cheers of the table overwhelm Akaashi a little. He’s exhausted from filling his speaking quota for the day.</p><p>He looks over at Bokuto again. He’s looking a little dejected, and Akaashi gauges that expression to indicate the early edge of emo mode. Hm. Why? But before Akaashi says anything, Kuroo wraps Bokuto’s neck in a headlock and pulls him towards the TV. </p><p>That’s good. Bokuto should be back to full energy within 10 minutes.</p><p>Akaashi stares back into his drink and settles back into the seat, watching his friends scramble for controllers and yell at the TV.</p>
<hr/><p>“Thanks for helping with the cleanup. Get home safe, alright! Take care of Akaashi.” Kuroo calls from the door. </p><p>Akaashi frowns back. “I’m not that drunk, Kuroo-san—” </p><p>Bokuto waves back. “I will!”</p><p>As they depart, Akaashi avoids Bokuto’s attempts to shoulder his weight. “I’m not drunk, Bokuto-san. I can walk by myself. Rather, I’m more worried about whether Sawamura-san and Suga-san are able to get Kageyama home safely.” Akaashi doesn’t know how Kageyama had managed to get so drunk later on in the evening, but he has a suspicion of which swoop-haired upperclassman was responsible for it.</p><p>“They’ve got it under control. They’re the babysitters of the crow’s nest, you know?” Bokuto chuckles into the cool night air as he gives up trying to pull Akaashi over, settling instead for walking closely at his side.</p><p>Akaashi murmurs his assent. “True. I’ll text Suga-san afterwards just in case, but they’ll probably be fine.”</p><p>They make it down to the apartment building’s front door. As the glass slides closed behind them, Bokuto speaks.</p><p>“Hey, Akaashi?”</p><p>“Yes, Bokuto-san?”</p><p>Bokuto looks down at his feet. “Why did you suggest Kuroo earlier?”</p><p>Akaashi sighs. He’s tipsy still, but he doesn’t have the energy to repeat his monologue. “Well, like I said. He’s a good, trustworthy—”</p><p>“No, I mean—” Bokuto stops and faces Akaashi on the sidewalk. The night around them is quiet, and Bokuto’s golden eyes reflect the warm glow from the street lamp above. “Why not you?”</p><p>Akaashi feels his stomach drop. He walks forward again to block the feeling. “Well…”</p><p>“You’re my best friend, Akaashi! I trust you completely, you know? I figured… you’d be alright with helping me with this, and you were the one who brought the issue up in the first place…” </p><p>Akaashi whips around to glare at Bokuto. “I’ve always warned you to be discreet in your meetings. I would never want the media to hound you.” He breathes in, calming himself. “And I’m not as good of a choice as you think.”</p><p>“Why not?”</p><p>Akaashi turns away, feeling heat rise to his cheeks. “I’ve never been a good actor.” </p><p>
  <em>I wouldn’t be able to act as your friend in a situation like that. I wouldn’t be able to take it.</em>
</p><p>“Oh…” </p><p>They walk for a few more steps.</p><p>“I could stop dating around instead.” </p><p>“Don’t force yourself, Bokuto-san.”</p><p>“It’s—I’m not some serial dater, or attention addict—” </p><p>“I know, Bokuto-san.”</p><p>“So, I’ll stop, then! Problem solved! Right?”</p><p>Akaashi looks over at Bokuto critically. “What about your hand-built happiness? The search for your soulmate?”</p><p>Bokuto looks down at him, surprised. “You remember that?” </p><p>Akaashi hums, leaning over onto Bokuto’s shoulder. Maybe he is a little more drunk than he had thought. </p><p>“Of course, Bokuto-san. You don’t want to wait for fate to drop your soulmate into your lap, so you’ve gone looking yourself. Ever proactive, you are.”</p><p>Bokuto’s body heat radiates out of the thin summer shirt he’s wearing, and Akaashi lets himself relax into it. Bokuto has always been a physically affectionate person, so he couldn’t mind this too much, right? </p><p>“Oh… right…” Bokuto sounds distracted. And maybe it’s the calm night air or the remnants of alcohol in his system, but Akaashi feels freer than he has in a long time. He stretches out his right hand in front of them as they walk down the street.</p><p>“But fate drops all kinds of gifts. All kinds of people, right into our lives. Here,” Akaashi isolates a string from his wrist, “is a yellow string. You can’t see it, so please take my word for it. It’s my connection to Oikawa-san. And this,” he pulls out another string, a paler yellow, “is Sarukui-san. And if I can find it… ah, here. On my elbow, I remember now. This goes way back… you remember Seo Yuzuki? Terror of the boys’ basketball team in high school? She was the little leader of our neighbourhood kids’ troupe.”</p><p>Bokuto starts to speak, but Akaashi wraps his left hand around Bokuto’s arm to quiet him down. Bokuto’s mouth clicks shut, and Akaashi absently lets that hand slide down Bokuto’s arm a little before letting it drop to his side again. </p><p>“I can’t see all the strings all the time, but I’ve never seen one break. They thin out, fading from view more than a few metres out, but it’s reassuring to know that I have friends who will be there for the rest of my life. Seo and I get in touch sometimes. She’s doing well. I think she’s producing horror films.”</p><p>Truly emboldened, he suddenly grabs hold of Bokuto’s left hand and cups it in his own. Bokuto inhales sharply, but Akaashi goes on.</p><p>“Yellow represents bonds of trust, companionship, support. Red, on the other hand…” he murmurs as he touches Bokuto’s ring finger, pulling at the small butterfly bow tentatively. He’s terrified to tug at the ends of the bow, but the knot shows no sign of budging. He lets the string between them run through his fingers.</p><p>“Red strings are rarer. I can’t see that many, but they bring more confusion than anything else.” They’ve stopped in the middle of the sidewalk. “Confusion and hurt, I think.” </p><p>Akaashi drops his right hand now, too, shifting his eyes to look at the sidewalk ahead of them. “Gold is a nice color. Better than red.” He looks up at Bokuto, who is completely frozen, as if scared to even breathe. </p><p>Akaashi isn’t, though, and he lets out a full-chested exhale. He nudges them both forward.</p><p>He’d been keeping this secret for so long. Only his parents knew, and they had barely believed him when he told them about it.</p><p>To tell Bokuto was… not like the heavens crumbling down around him, like he thought it’d be. It was more like a roof yawning open to reveal the vast, vast sky. </p><p>He resists the urge to hum happily and instead bumps Bokuto’s elbow as they manage to walk forward again.</p><p>“Don’t you have any questions? I’m sorry that I didn’t tell you before. You’ve denounced red strings since high school, but some of the other colors are kind of interesting, really. Oh, the blue—”</p><p>“I don’t hate the strings!” Bokuto practically shouts.</p><p>Akaashi starts and moves his shoulder away, but Bokuto grabs his hand and pulls him back. </p><p>“That’s… that’s really cool that you can see them. I’m kind of sad that you didn’t tell me before, honestly…” </p><p>“I’m sorry—”</p><p>“No, no, it’s alright! Um…” he blushes a bit. <em>Cute</em>, Akaashi’s brain supplies uselessly. “So… are red strings at all like the stories? Like for fated partners?”</p><p>Akaashi huffs. “I don’t know. Like I said, I don’t see them as much as the other colors. My parents don’t have one.” He pauses. “Although, I’ve seen Oikawa-san’s.” Akaashi’s eyes light up briefly—he would never admit it, but he does enjoy indulging in his friends’ gossip—“You remember that other manager at Seijoh he talks about? He was on Daichi’s team in university. They’re childhood friends.” Akaashi shrugs. “Oikawa-san keeps saying that he’s loving ‘living up the bachelor life’, but it sure doesn’t sound like it.”</p><p>They’ve arrived at Akaashi’s apartment. Bokuto fidgets at the bottom of the steps, and Akaashi feels his heart melt a little with affection.</p><p>“Don’t worry about red strings, Bokuto-san. You don’t need them to find the one. You can do better than what a dingy old piece of yarn says.” <em>You deserve better. </em></p><p>
  <em>You deserve the best. </em>
</p><p>Bokuto looks like he wants to say something, but Akaashi lets out a small yawn. Bokuto’s eyes widen and he hurries Akaashi up the stairs to his apartment, practically pushing his entire weight to the top step.</p><p>“Ah—”</p><p>“Akaashi, you’re tired, right? I’m really thankful that you’ve told me all this… so let’s talk more soon, okay? You should rest up!”</p><p>Akaashi, pushed to the top of the stairs, turns back to look at Bokuto again. Bokuto is standing on the step below him, face very close by and pink from the exertion, or the alcohol, maybe. His lips are twisted in a nervous expression.</p><p>
  <em>Cute.</em>
</p><p>Akaashi smiles freely. “Alright, Bokuto-san. You too. Good night.” He bows and enters the apartment building. </p><p>It <em>was</em> a good night. Heart lifted and cheeks warm, Akaashi heads upstairs to go to bed.</p><p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Next time: Hanemi-san!</p><p>The image in the art really stuck in my mind as I was writing this chapter. For what it’s worth, I got really mad at the wording re: whose arm was doing what where? And depending on how you imagine the scene they could either be having a nice romantic moment or playing twister lmao  </p><p>A picture’s worth a thousand words and all that! </p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0008"><h2>8. Chapter 8</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>In which Akaashi talks about Important Work Things.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>Knock, knock.</em>
</p><p>"Hanemi-san, you asked to see me?"</p><p>“Ah, Akaashi-kun! Come in.”</p><p>Akaashi cracks open the door just enough to let himself through. The petite woman sitting at the massive glass desk looks up, silver bangs bobbing brightly as smiles at Akaashi.</p><p>“Good to see you. How have you been, lately?”</p><p>Akaashi bows and sits when Bokuto Hanemi motions him to take a seat. "Good, thank you, Hanemi-san. Did you get a new haircut?”</p><p>She pats the back of her head, where the hair ends just above her neck in a smooth sweep. “Yes, you noticed? It’s summer, so who doesn’t like a nice short cut?” She pauses, then chuckles, eyes sparkling with affection. “But if we’re being honest, Remi’s latest… experimental style didn’t go so well, so he just trimmed the rest of it off.” She perks up, looking at Akaashi. “What about you? Open to guinea pigging for my husband again?”</p><p>“No, thank you,” Akaashi quickly says. Hanemi laughs.</p><p>“Well, you know we love having you over, regardless. Hide-kun misses you!” Hanemi smiles warmly before nudging her keyboard aside. "So, to get to the point: I called you in to talk about your career trajectory, Akaashi-kun.”</p><p>Akaashi steadies his face. Did Hanemi find his work unsatisfactory? His previous performance reviews had been positive across the board—</p><p>“Hmm, as poker-faced as ever, I see. Don’t worry! I have good news.” She spins the monitor around to show Akaashi a property plan.</p><p>“As you know, the process of opening a new branch in Europe is underway. We’re deciding between locations in Vienna, Lyon, Milan, and others. The auction is ongoing, and we are going to send out a representative team for an in-person look in a month.” As she lists the cities, she scrolls through scenery of the metropolitan areas of those cities.</p><p>Akaashi nods. He had followed the discussions, attending most of the meetings. He himself had prepared the proposal for the Vienna location.</p><p>“We’re sending out teams to meet the property managers and the local city representatives soon, in a few weeks. I’d like to send you in my place.”  </p><p>Akaashi looks taken aback. “I… I would be glad to go, but why?” </p><p>Hanemi leans back in her chair and grabs a small plush owl off of her desk, absently squishing it between her hands. Her eyes, usually sharp and inquisitive, seem more tired than usual.</p><p>“Long story short… it’s my mother. She sprained her knee a month ago and didn’t watch herself, running around with no concern for the people worried about her.” She smiles and looks softly towards the photo of her family on her desk. </p><p>“She caught a bad fever a few days ago, and at that age… She’s a strong woman. The strongest I know. But I’m worried, and I can’t go too far away.”</p><p>She puts the toy back next to the photo, breathing in and meeting Akaashi’s eyes again. “This isn’t the final contract signing, anyway. The negotiations will continue well into autumn, at least, but for now, I believe you’re essential to the outgoing team.</p><p>“You’re qualified and informed enough, possibly even more so than some of our executive board. Furthermore, you spent over a year abroad in Austria in university, correct? How’s your German?”</p><p>Akaashi considers briefly before responding. “Schön, etwas eingerostet.” <em>Alright, but a little rusty.</em></p><p>She nods approvingly and hands Akaashi a folder. Taking a peek inside, he finds itineraries and travel leaflets. “I think I can spare you for the three weeks this trip will take. This is a good chance to learn more about international ventures, and I hope you will observe as much as you can and tell me what you learn.”</p><p>Akaashi nods and puts the folder onto his lap. “Alright. Thank you for this opportunity, Hanemi-san.”</p><p>“No, thank you for going! You tend to underestimate your value to the company, and to me, Akaashi-kun. Speaking of,” Hanemi then pulls another folder out from under her desk, “I mentioned your career trajectory earlier. You’ve been invaluable as an employee, and your work goes far beyond the paygrade of an assistant.”</p><p>“I’m honored to work under you, Hanemi-san. It’s not an opportunity afforded to many.”</p><p>She waves him off. “I’m glad to hear that, but the fact of the matter is that it’s high time for the next step in your path. If you continue to be involved in the process of building our European headquarters, you’ll be well on your way to being the head of operations there, I think.”</p><p>Akaashi stares at her in surprise for a few seconds before recovering. “That’s an amazing opportunity. I—I’m honoured that you would trust me with such a position.”</p><p>“However,” Hanemi adds, finger pointed up to ask for Akaashi’s patience. “That’s not the only proposition I have right now. If you’ll recall, Yamiji-san is retiring in two years. He’s a shrewd man, and I’ve been pulling hair trying to figure out who could fill in his shoes as VP of Human Resources.”</p><p>Akaashi had met Takeyuki Yamiji a few times. The man was intimidating at first, but very kind, and he had spared the time to talk to Akaashi in person back when Akaashi had first started working at the company.</p><p>“So, I want to know if you’d like to be in the running for the vice presidency.”</p><p>Akaashi gapes as Hanemi continues. “You started off in HR when you first entered the company, straight out of university. To say that you progressed up the ladder quickly is an understatement.” Hanemi chuckles as she adds, “You’re as crazy as my son sometimes, you know? Despite that calm exterior.”</p><p>Akaashi is still stunned at what he’s just heard. Seeing this, Hanemi smiles warmly and passes Akaashi the folder on her desk. “Take your time to think about this carefully. It’s a big choice and a huge change in your life, and I don’t want you to confirm anything until we know the actual location of the European HQ at the very least. Don’t rush.”</p><p>“That’s…” Akaashi quickly bows his head forwards, and Hanemi laughs as he stammers out more thanks.</p><p>“Not at all! It’s a rare thing, to see someone so bright as you are, Akaashi-kun.” She gives him a careful, appraising look. “If I’m being honest, I think the foreign position might have slightly more potential. You’ll likely be in charge of a huge group of people, and you’d have a massive impact on the direction we take our international business. Of course, VP HR is a huge role and incredibly influential here in headquarters. It’s hard to say how you might grow into either of these jobs in the future, really.”</p><p>Hanemi shrugs slightly. “But, no matter what you choose, I’ll be happy to watch you progress. I only urge you to consider <em>everything</em> carefully before you make your decision.”</p><p>“I—I will, of course—” </p><p>Hanemi hushes him again with a knowing glance. “I don’t doubt you’re capable of thinking about the future, your responsibilities… but I want you to reflect on what you <em>want</em>. For yourself, Akaashi. Where do you want to be? What do you see yourself doing?” She sighs slightly, almost wistfully. “We’re still a ways away, but I’m not going to be in this chair forever, either.”</p><p>Akaashi pauses before nodding slowly. Both of the choices she had just dropped onto his head feel as heavy as sacks of bricks. Especially moving to Europe? Leaving Japan?</p><p>Hanemi relaxes into her seat again before aiming a different, inquisitive expression at Akaashi.</p><p>“Not to jump topics too dramatically, but, how’s Kou doing these days?”</p><p>Akaashi raises his head, confused and still processing the new information. “What? Boku—Ah, Koutarou-san?” He takes a second to remember Bokuto’s progress reports, and their interactions, from the last week. “He’s been doing well, actually. He integrated into his team remarkably well. He’s… the closest thing I can think of to a natural-born leader. Somehow his group’s sales have increased almost twofold in the last half-year.”</p><p>Hanemi laughs. “I’ve been checking in on him, but it’s different to hear praise for that featherbrained boy from you. I’m glad,” she says, her round brown eyes curving into mirthful crescents over her cheeks. “But I’m not asking Akaashi-kun, my son's colleague, but rather Akaashi, his closest—and most observant—friend.”</p><p>Akaashi opens his mouth to say that Bokuto hadn’t done anything particularly chaotic lately before he remembers the most recent round table at Kuroo’s apartment. </p><p>“He’s doing well. He cheers everyone up, no matter where he is,” Akaashi begins. “But, he recently seems to be attracting public attention with the number of dates he’s been on.”</p><p>Hanemi raises one arched brow. “I told him to be more careful. Doesn’t he have any self-awareness, when he can’t even see what’s in front of him…” </p><p>She gives Akaashi a concerned look, but Akaashi doesn’t really understand it, so he continues. “He has a bit of a penchant for dramatic flair, so he said he’d survey our friends for a fake boyfriend.”</p><p>Hanemi’s eyebrows both shoot up in the exact manner Akaashi’s seen so many times on her son.</p><p>“...so if Kuroo-san from Nekoma Properties appears around the building oddly frequently, that may be why.”</p><p>Hanemi’s face is frozen, another look familiar to Akaashi, this time from his circle of friends the last time they discussed the fake dating solution. Why do they seem so shocked at <em>him</em> when he brings it up? It was Bokuto's idea to begin with. Akaashi himself is not particularly attached to it, so in lieu of a better plan, his previous reasoning for partner selection still stands. Kuroo is the best choice. </p><p>“That… is a gloriously bad idea.”</p><p>Akaashi gives her a wry look. “It’s not always easy to handle Bo—Koutarou-san. Kuroo-san is someone I trust, and the two won’t—” </p><p>Alright, it’s a big fat lie to say that they won’t get into trouble, and everyone in the room knows it.</p><p>“—won’t get into any major scandals, or anything threatening their lives or livelihoods. I think. Anyways, B—Koutarou-san has also implied that he may reduce the frequency of his excursions, but… for how long? I don’t want to indefinitely stop him from finding a partner, and at least this way, it’s still easy for me to keep an eye on him.”</p><p>Hanemi’s face has been slowly transforming from incredulity to holding back laughter, and she finally bursts into giggles. “Akaashi-kun, the more you talk, the more convinced I am that <em>you’re</em> really his mother, not me!” She wipes her eyes with her neatly manicured fingers. “Ah, well, I’ll interrogate him myself later, but I have the feeling that this is all harmless. But still very interesting,” she adds as she winks at Akaashi. </p><p>“I’m not a gambling woman,” she goes on, grinning, “but if I had to bet, I would put my money on Kou not going through with this fake-dating thing with Kuroo-kun. And if it does start… they’ll have given up before December.”</p><p>“Well, the two of them do occasionally butt heads—”</p><p>“Not what I mean! Actually, maybe even August, depending on you, Akaashi-kun~” She draws out the last syllable in a teasing way, chuckling a little. “Anyways! Thank you for coming in, Akaashi, and for filling me in on the gossip about my son’s life.” She taps the second folder that she gave Akaashi earlier. “But more importantly, you’ve got some big decisions to make. Take your time to think it through!”</p><p>Akaashi gets up to walk out of the door, bowing before leaving. “Thank you again, Hanemi-san.”</p><p>“Don’t forget to consider everything I said. Think about what you want!” she says cheerfully from her desk, smiling over a mug of tea.</p><p>Akaashi nods and exits. So much had happened in this meeting. His entire career path suddenly crystallized before him, splitting into two very distinct paths. </p><p>He knows he wouldn’t have been an assistant forever, but… a small part of him had dreamed up a vague silhouette of him still as the president’s assistant, somewhere down the line, after Bokuto had taken on the mantle.</p><p>That was never the plan, of course—Akaashi was going to keep bounding up the career ladder as much as he could, and both being a VP at headquarters and heading the European operation were unimaginably good opportunities.</p><p>He just didn’t expect it so soon. He had grown comfortable ever since Bokuto had officially returned to work for Fuku.</p><p>Hanemi was right: he had many things to think about.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Next time: Fun Fukurodani times!</p><p>tbt intro to Japanese class? Common practice is knocking twice. Knocking three times is off-putting!</p><p>Bokuto Remi is a hobbyist hairdresser. He’s proficient but… very creative. Hanemi lets him mess with her hair during vacations, provided that he can undo anything too egregious before she has to meet anyone important. Hideyoshi (10) lets him do basically whatever, whenever. Koutarou (27) used to, but he fell so in love with the horned owl hairstyle that he’s kept it since high school. </p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0009"><h2>9. Chapter 9</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>In which Akaashi seems to have made some grievous misjudgements.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>"Woah, did you make that?" Komi says, far too loudly, as he scrapes out the chair across from Akaashi at lunch.</p><p>Akaashi takes his time chewing the shrimp he had just picked up in his chopsticks. It’s important to chew properly and savour this lunch, because, after all—</p><p>“Bokuto-san made this for me.”</p><p>Sarukui, peeling open his cup noodles, makes a disbelieving face at Akaashi. “...What? No way.”</p><p>Komi peers over. “Is that <em>nanohana no karashiae</em>?” he asks, pointing to the greens Akaashi had saved for last.</p><p>“Yes. I’m not sharing any.”</p><p>“Wahh, so healthy,” a new voice starts above Akaashi’s head. Akaashi glances up to see Konoha’s ashy hair hanging down above him. Konoha steps aside to slide into the seat next to Akaashi.</p><p>“You could stand to eat more vegetables, though,” Sarukui comments as he tries to nab a piece of chicken from the top of Konoha’s rice bowl.</p><p>Konoha swipes his bowl out of the way and Sarukui clicks his tongue. Konoha leans back to shovel rice into his mouth, and Sarukui turns back to Akaashi. “Wait, I didn’t know our little <em>bocchan</em> could cook,” he comments mildly. </p><p>“Is it any good? Does your stomach hurt?” Komi leans over to inspect the lunchbox. Akaashi pulls it back slightly towards his body even though none of his colleagues show any interest in stealing the food itself. </p><p>“It’s good. He has a good sense for making balanced meals, it seems.”</p><p>“It… looks a lot like the food you make for yourself, actually. Green mushy stuff, nondescript meat…” Sarukui says. “Wait, isn’t <em>nanohana</em> your favorite?”</p><p>“If anything, it looks <em>better</em> than the stuff you make, Akaashi,” Konoha adds genuinely, but still with a snicker.</p><p>Akaashi continues eating his food, the taste unaffected by the sour comments being thrown his way. There were only a few bites left. “I never claimed to be good in the kitchen. You haven’t seen Bokuto cook. He’s actually quite good at it.”</p><p>Komi and Sarukui’s mouths curl into identical smirks. If Akaashi had cared to turn his head, he’s sure he would have seen a matching one on Konoha. Instead, Sarukui’s eyes flick up. “Speak of the devil! Bokuto, over here!”</p><p>Akaashi turns to see Bokuto now walking over, shouting “Hey hey hey!” from a distance.</p><p>“Ah, I was just heading out,” Akaashi says to Bokuto as he arrives at the table, ignoring the booing from the three seated already.</p><p>“So soon, Akaashi?” Sarukui asks.</p><p>Before Akaashi can explain that he’s finished eating, Bokuto cuts in. “Oh! Actually, Akaashi, can you come with me for five minutes?”</p><p>Akaashi tilts his head. “Alright. Is it urgent?”</p><p>Bokuto shakes his head as the two step away from the table. “No. It’s private, though. I just wanted to ask…” he cranes his neck back to look at the table. “What are you guys making those faces for?” He eyes them, one eyebrow pinched down, but turns back to Akaashi brightly as they set out.</p><p>“Oh, wait, but first—how was the bento, Akaashi?”</p><p>“It was delicious, Bokuto-san. You’re an excellent cook. I will wash the container before returning it to you tomorrow.”</p><p>Bokuto glows with the praise. “Hey, that’s great! I’m glad. I’ll make you another one tomorrow!”</p><p>“Ah, that’s not necessary—”</p><p>But Bokuto barrels forth with the conversation as they walk out the door. “Anyway, I was going to ask you about your promotion.”</p><p>Akaashi’s eyes widen. His meeting with Hanemi was just yesterday. “Your mother told you?” </p><p>Bokuto smiles, although there’s something limiting its usual brightness. “Yeah! Well, first of all, congratulations. And, I called it, like, years ago.”</p><p>“You’ve always been very optimistic, though.”</p><p>“Optimistic and <em>right. </em>Anyway, have you decided which to pick?”</p><p>Akaashi shakes his head. “I don’t know. They’re both basically once-in-a-lifetime opportunities…”</p><p>Bokuto nods eagerly, but he waits for Akaashi to continue. </p><p>“Well, I started in HR, and it’s where I saw myself working for the rest of my career. I liked the work. I actually have some ideas for the department.”</p><p>“And what do you think about working abroad?”</p><p>Akaashi had spent the better part of last night pondering over this very question. “To be perfectly honest, I’m not sure. I enjoyed being in the cities I’ve visited, and I like travelling. And to be there to help develop the branch from the ground up… But somehow, it’s hard to imagine me there.”</p><p>“If anyone can do it, it’d be you,” Bokuto encourages loudly. They’ve made it just outside the building and are pacing around a small courtyard.</p><p>“But I don’t know about working in a foreign country.”</p><p>“It’s a really exciting move, though, isn’t it? You’ll be so busy with super important work, and you’ll get to meet so many exciting new people.” Bokuto’s eyes glitter as he speaks. “And you won’t even have a hard time in Europe. You speak English and German, Akaashi!”</p><p>“It’s been a while, so I don’t know how good I am anymore.”</p><p>Bokuto stops and grabs Akaashi by the shoulders, locking their eyes together with a scolding expression.</p><p>“Akaashi. You keep saying, ‘I don’t know, I don’t know’, over and over.” Bokuto lets out a small huff of laughter. “Why are you overthinking it? <em>I</em> know that you’ll do great.”</p><p>The gears in Akaashi’s head slow down at the bright smile directed full-force at such close quarters. Bokuto’s optimism is infectious, though. Somehow, he can feel the fear of the unknown melt away a little.</p><p>“Well, I’ll be able to get a good look when I’m visiting the proposed cities.”</p><p>“Oh? How long will you be gone?”</p><p>“Three weeks.”</p><p>Bokuto snaps over before quickly twitching back to look forwards. “Ah… that’s a long time. But it makes sense. Take your time and learn about the locations thoroughly.”</p><p>“I plan to. I also get a day off in the middle. It’ll be in Vienna.”</p><p>“Oh, that’s where you went to study abroad in your last year, right? It was hard to keep in touch with you.”</p><p>That was deliberate, but Bokuto doesn’t need to know that. The last year of university was a hard one, with the once ever-noisy presence of his friends—primarily upperclassmen in volleyball—was suddenly gone. Travelling was exhausting, and adjusting to a wholly new environment had been effective at taking his mind off things.</p><p>“Your incessant job hopping made it hard to reach you, as well.” Or at least, so Akaashi had heard so from Oikawa and Kuroo. Bokuto had always responded to Akaashi’s messages with almost alarming alacrity.</p><p>Bokuto looks like he wants to say as much, but instead he inhales and looks off to the side. </p><p>Akaashi doesn’t want to think about their university years too much more, so he stops that train of thought cold.</p><p>“Well… somehow we both ended up here, though, right?”</p><p>“Yes. I was starting to worry after the stewpot incident.”</p><p>“Oh man, the guys at Nekoma know how to party—”</p><p>“Please refrain from receding to your wild-child college mentality, Bokuto-san.”</p><p>“Hey, I wasn’t that bad!” Bokuto turns back to look at him, a smile again on his face. “Anyways, back to the topic on hand. I think you’ll do great in Europe as VP of the European locations.”</p><p>“Well, I haven’t decided yet—”</p><p>“But, don’t you want to go?” Bokuto seems to be carefully trying to examine Akaashi out of the corner of his eyes. </p><p>Akaashi considers the question again, humming as he turns to stare at the ground ahead of him. Like Hanemi had asked, what did he want? It wasn’t quite as simple as a matter of influence or money; that wouldn’t really have helped to differentiate the positions, anyway.</p><p>He had spent a long time abroad, and Vienna was a beautiful city. He had explored many cities, but in the last year of university, his little dorm half an hour away from Universität Wien had really felt like his home away from home.</p><p>He had spent his days sightseeing, studying—and, well, getting out-drunk by his roommates, but they were lively and fun in a way that called back memories from warm evenings at pubs back in Tokyo.</p><p>Oikawa had taken one look at him during one of the last few such evenings, and with a critical eyebrow raised, pointed out that Akaashi wouldn’t need to do a broken heart trip if he would just talk to Bokuto before graduation, which was in a few weeks for goodness’ sake.</p><p>Akaashi had asked what he meant by “broken heart trip”.</p><p>Oikawa had tutted, “Really?” but refused to explain more. </p><p>Kuroo had added, “We’re going to have reunions. And, the first thing I do when I start at Nekoma is to find the nearest rentable volleyball court so we can keep crushing Sa’amura’s team.”</p><p>“I <em>am</em> looking forward to playing Iwa-chan again. Well, there’s this little sand pit with a volleyball net near Seijoh’s headquarters…”</p><p><em>Stop.</em> No. Akaashi’s going to stop thinking about those years. </p><p>So, Europe: first of all, the precise location of the branch hadn’t been decided yet. For all he knows, the headquarters could be located in Lyon, and he’d have to survive on minimal English while picking up French as rapidly as possible. He did have a fondness for languages, and with a working knowledge of English and German, French wouldn’t be too bad.</p><p>Or, there’s taking on HR. He had worked there before, but that was a far cry from leading the whole department—there would be so many people depending on him, not just in that group. He’d be responsible for… everyone in the company, in a way. But a conversation he had with Suga a while back about Karasuno’s hiring processes had sparked some ideas that he would have liked to see at Fuku— </p><p>Wait, hold on. He jerks out of his reverie to remember what he and Bokuto had been saying. </p><p>“You seem to really like the European position better, Bokuto-san.”</p><p>Bokuto was waiting for him to speak for this long quiet stretch, and only now does he scrunch his eyebrows before speaking. How long had Bokuto been silent? Odd. </p><p>“I mean… You really like travelling, right?” Bokuto looks away, up towards the roofs of the sleek glass and metal buildings around them. “You’re the best at what you do, no matter what it is. You’re supposed to go out there and do great things. There’s no reason to hold yourself back in Japan.”</p><p>Akaashi is shocked. “Leading HR could hardly be considered holding anyone back. Do you even understand how much Yamiji-buchou is responsible for?”</p><p>Bokuto doesn’t turn back, so Akaashi tilts his head forward to get a look at his face. It’s the same beaming smile, but again with something muting it somewhat.</p><p>“That’s part of it. Being responsible for others, covering up messes, working from the shadows.” Now he turns to look at Akaashi. “You shouldn’t have to do that forever. And this chance—you should take this chance to… to fly.”</p><p>Akaashi stops them. He stares at Bokuto, suddenly understanding. Bokuto, in all his brash, direct cheer, was <em>implying</em> something. That’s a bit of a marvel, but any pride Akaashi feels for Bokuto’s increased capability for rhetoric is immediately washed away by worry.</p><p>“Wait—Bokuto-san, I’ve always wanted to—” <em>Stay by your side</em>, but he can’t say that—“I’ve always enjoyed working with you. I’ve never thought that I was… <em>covering</em> for you. I’m grateful when you depend on me even a little—”</p><p>Bokuto’s features slowly, slowly fall into something a bit more forlorn. “I do depend on you. You make it too easy, Akaashi.” He meets Akaashi’s gaze. “I’m not the most gentle, or considerate, or sensitive person, but I’m trying to be dependable, too, you know?”</p><p>“You are dependable, Bokuto-san! Your team is flourishing under you, and—and, I’ve never been prouder—”</p><p>Bokuto almost seems to brighten a bit at that, but he quickly scratches his head and turns his eyes away. “Thanks, Akaashi. That’s not exactly it, though. I’ve… never really been able to help you out. And you don’t ask me for anything, either, so… like, I’m taking a leaf from your book?” He lets out an awkward chuckle. “I’m trying to watch you a little more carefully…”</p><p>He had noticed? Underestimating Bokuto is incredibly dangerous, and Akaashi is suddenly fearful—exactly how much is Bokuto aware of his surroundings? Of Akaashi?</p><p>“… and trying to be supportive where I can. So, I asked Mom about you a while ago, although she made me not say anything about your promotion until she had talked to you first…”</p><p><em>Incredibly</em> dangerous.</p><p>“And I thought it was obvious which choice you would take from the start. But!” His eyes glow as he focuses on Akaashi. Akaashi almost steps back, but Bokuto’s hands are back on his shoulders, holding him in place. “I also know that you overthink a lot, Akaashi. Sometimes you’re driven, and focused, and fierce. But other times you just don’t seem to really get what you’re capable of. So I’m reminding you of that.” </p><p>Bokuto suddenly flushes and rapidly retracts his hands. “Ah, sorry. I didn’t mean to grab you like that. Sorry,” he repeats. </p><p>Akaashi is, frankly, dazed from this entire conversation. Bokuto notices this, and he clenches his fists a little as he steps backward. </p><p>“Well, uh… anyways! You don’t have to worry about the container, actually,” Bokuto quickly says as he wrenches the empty box from Akaashi’s hands. The red string, blowing in the wind, traitorously wraps around it.</p><p>“I’ll… see you soon, I guess? Travel safe, alright? Although I know you know how to do that, but…” Bokuto stammers. “Or, take some pictures for us, I guess? Yeah!”</p><p>Bokuto backs off into the building, leaving Akaashi stunned.</p><p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Next time: So what did happen in Vienna?</p><p>I don't know why, but somehow I missed the opportunity to write more "usual" Bokuaka interactions -- like emo mode?? Akaashi being caring? Instead we're leaping straight into fukurodani at nationals-esque bokuaka + bokuto character growth hmhmm...</p><p>Sarukui is my favorite and he should be yours too: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=65QmuJK7I5s</p><p>The average chapter word count just kinda… bumped up a few hundred. Oops?</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0010"><h2>10. Chapter 10</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>In which some more friends appear in unlikely places.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Akaashi hasn’t seen Bokuto in person since their conversation in the courtyard, which was over four weeks ago—a week and a half before he got on the plane, plus three weeks abroad. </p><p>Bokuto didn’t disappear into perfect radio silence, of course—he’s still maintaining the requisite  amount of professional contact with Akaashi, and in addition, he still dutifully responds to all of Akaashi’s personal messages. Akaashi had quickly realized how many of their conversations normally start with Bokuto’s carefree rambling.</p><p>To make things more confusing, Bokuto had left him a bento every day at his desk leading up to the trip. </p><p>Akaashi had called Kuroo once in the middle of the trip, and he’d tried to glean what information he could without sounding too worried. Has work been going alright? Has the Round Table gotten together this month? Was Bokuto doing alright? </p><p>Akaashi knows he’s not as subtle as he could be, but he doesn’t care.</p><p>“Ah, he’s, uh—I mean, fine, yeah—crap, Bokuto, close the window, he’s <em>getting out</em>—” Kuroo must have lifted the mouthpiece of his phone away, but Akaashi catches everything Kuroo’s saying against the wild clatter of what sounds like toppling furniture.</p><p>He also hears Bokuto shouting, which means he’s probably fine, especially if Kuroo’s there too. </p><p>Yes, Akaashi is worried, even on the other side of the world, but it seems like Bokuto is alright. He sighs—definitely from relief and nothing else—and he fusses over his right pinky before he enters the conference room for the first meeting of his last day.</p><hr/><p>“Issat you there, ‘Kaashi-kun?”</p><p>Akaashi turns around to see a pair of familiar, identical faces. What are the odds, really? On the day before his flight home, in a small London pub that Suga had recommended…</p><p>Although—glancing around at the raven-related decor of the store, it may not be so surprising. Suga does enjoy sharing what he likes with as many people as possible. </p><p>As Atsumu shows no sign of letting him quietly eat alone like Akaashi had planned for the evening, he walks over to join the Miya twins at their table.</p><p>“How’re you doin’, Akaashi-san?” Osamu asks, handing him a menu and shooting a skeptical glance at his brother. “We don’t want to keep ya here if yer busy.”</p><p>Akaashi considers taking the out for a second, but his stomach grumbles and he shakes his head. “I’m not. I was looking for a place to eat, and I remembered that Suga-san had recommended this place before I left.”</p><p>The waiter arrives, and Atsumu rattles off a long order, oily and carb-filled, in smooth English as Osamu rolls his eyes. When Atsumu turns to Akaashi for his order, Akaashi looks up and relays his choices himself to the waiter. He stumbles a little more than Atsumu, but he’s relatively satisfied at how well his grasp of the language had held up.</p><p>“Ooh, polyglot, are ya?” Atsumu smirks across the table. “Ever consider coming to work for Foxtrot?”</p><p>“Ignore ‘im,” Osamu cuts in. He doesn’t look at his twin as he says, “Stop flirting, ‘tsumu. It ain’t cute, and he’s our senpais’ friend.” Without losing a beat, he continues, addressing Akaashi. “So, Suga-san recommended this place to us, too. He wouldna’ shut up about it at practice after that one winter break, so we all ‘member it.”</p><p>“Boo,” Atsumu fakes a pout before shifting his half-lidded focus back to Akaashi. “So! What’re ya doing in London, anyways?”</p><p>Akaashi doesn’t get caught up in the rapid back-and-forth of their banter. He had only met the two on the court before, years ago, but their comfortable egging-on seems to have stayed the same.</p><p>“I’m here on business, visiting possible locations for Fuku’s new European headquarters.” </p><p>Osamu hums interestedly. “Interestin’. Didn’cha study abroad in Germany or something, th’last year? Missed yer settin’ on the court, man.”</p><p>Atsumu scowls a little. “Yeah, that setter that Kuroo-san pulled outta nowhere was a pain to go ‘gainst. The little puddin’-top plays <em>dirty</em>. Like, dude, y’graduated. Just leave yer team to get pummeled by us, c’mon.” </p><p>“Too embarrassed to talk about how we lost our last match against yer ol’ buddy Tobio-kun?” Osamu comments wryly.</p><p>How does everyone know about his time abroad? Akaashi had meant to get away, not stir up gossip back home. “Austria, yes. And, my condolences…?” </p><p>Atsumu scoffs at his brother before continuing. “Anyway, still at Fuku Hotels, huh? Never really got tired of Bokkun to th’end, huh?”</p><p>No, Akaashi isn’t tired of Bokuto. His problem is really quite the opposite. </p><p>He had taken his time alone to muse over that last conversation all those weeks ago. Bokuto’s words had cut through all his cloudy insecurities and concerns, straight into his core and striking hot iron to spark new questions into mind.</p><p><em>How had Bokuto felt this whole time? Why is he silent now?</em> </p><p>He kicks himself internally. When was the last time he had failed to consider Bokuto’s feelings? Not since high school, surely, and he’s <em>definitely</em> not going back to those days.</p><p>
  <em>Does Bokuto want Akaashi to leave?</em>
</p><p>Akaashi hadn’t been able to change his conclusions there much since stepping on the plane. He had forced himself to think realistically from the start; he and Bokuto were still on good, friendly terms. If Bokuto were pushing him away… well, Bokuto is (mostly) a man of face value and unfiltered honesty. So, based on his words, he’s not so much pushing Akaashi away as he is pushing Akaashi towards bigger, brighter things.</p><p>Akaashi irritably thinks that he doesn’t like being pushed so much.</p><p>Or, in light of a recently acquired understanding of Bokuto’s perception and capabilities—Bokuto was changing, taking on more responsibilities, growing into the strong leader that he was always meant to be. </p><p>In other words, it’s finally time to start shedding the training wheels. </p><p>It’s something Akaashi had known was coming for a long time. But if he’d known that it would be so soon—Akaashi briefly entertains the idea of telling Bokuto about the red string between them. </p><p>He hadn’t lied to Bokuto about the string and its color, but realistically, there should be no doubt in Bokuto’s mind that the two of them had an unbreakable golden link between them (It is the best color, after all, and Akaashi isn’t thinking this bitterly, not one bit). </p><p>So if he told Bokuto about the actual color of their string… He wonders if Bokuto would look betrayed? Pleased to have finally found a soulmate, maybe? Or disgusted that Akaashi would try to take advantage of his fanciful nature, his emotions, their shared past—</p><p>But those are hypotheticals. He’s not going to say anything about the red string to Bokuto. Whatever the reason, reality says that they’re about to drift away slowly. And if that’s the case… he needs to take any time left with Bokuto and run with it.</p><p>Akaashi steadfastly refuses to let his heart drop through his stomach.</p><p>His right pinky knuckle cries abuse, and Akaashi stops fiddling with the skin where the red string was pinching slightly. </p><p>The lead coming off his hand is thinner and lighter than it had ever been for the last few years. He had seen the same effect once before, all those years ago—the strings seem to fade with distance, but even a year spent running around Europe had not strained the connection to breaking point, so he doubts a paltry three weeks would do it.</p><p>The end of the lead seems even more frayed than it had looked earlier at the flower shop, though, something that often happens with stress. The thin tip seems to strain and spin outwards, seeking its other half. Akaashi almost pities it. <em>Sorry that you’re attached to someone so incompetent.</em></p><p>And then there were the questions about Akaashi himself.</p><p>
  <em>What did Akaashi want? </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Was he being held back?</em>
</p><p>
  <em>What does it mean to fly?</em>
</p><p>He’s in Europe now. London wasn’t bad, and his English was already recovering after years of unuse. </p><p>
  <em>Are you riding off gallantly into the distance like some misguided martyr?</em>
</p><p>Oikawa’s voice joins the mix, sappy paperback similes and all. Akaashi wouldn’t say “gallantly” or “martyr”, per se, but Oikawa always has had an uncannily clear perception of his inner thoughts. Akaashi inwardly curses his sharp-eyed friend.</p><p>Plus, he’s not running away! Working abroad was something Bokuto had encouraged, after all. Bokuto had really been so confident, not only that Akaashi would easily pick the foreign position, but also that he would flourish in it. </p><p>“Did we lose ‘im? He’s been staring at that coaster for a solid minute…” Atsumu’s voice drifts onto Akaashi’s radar. Akaashi snaps his head up to see that the food has arrived and that both twins are looking at him curiously.</p><p>Osamu looks like he’s going to respond, but a tinny ringtone interrupts him. “Hold on, I gotta take this,” he says, getting up and walking to the exit, but not before Atsumu has managed to peek at his screen and roll his eyes at what he sees. </p><p>Akaashi looks back to Atsumu after Osamu leaves. “Suna,” Atsumu shrugs with disgust coated thinly over… was that envy? “He’s in charge back at HQ while ‘samu and me’re out. Bit of a snobby dude. Speaks the Tokyo dialect at work e’en when barely anyone else does, but at least he’s good at what ‘e does. And ‘samu seems to like him, so I can’t just kick ‘im out.” </p><p>Akaashi had seen a very faint hint of red on Osamu’s hand loosely wrapped around the phone, so he can guess at the second meaning behind Atsumu’s words.</p><p>“Do you have someone waiting for you at home, as well?” Akaashi asks.</p><p>“Hm?” Atsumu’s eyes flick back to Akaashi, the snarky grin refocused on Akaashi’s face. “Y’offerin’? Of us two, dunno who’d be waitin’ though—we’re both out and about a lot.”</p><p>Akaashi glances at Atsumu’s hands, curved around a piece of crispy golden fried fish. He isn’t surprised to see a loop of red on his middle finger. The lead drifts off the table to line up parallel with Akaashi’s, tugging east. </p><p>The ends of his string are frayed, even more so than Akaashi’s. Akaashi doesn’t let his eyebrows rise in surprise and instead eyes Atsumu in concern.</p><p>“You didn’t answer my question,” Akaashi prods gently. Atsumu’s confident facade cracks just the slightest bit at the corners before he seemingly shakes it off.</p><p>“Eh, no-one waitin’,” he says offhandedly. Akaashi sees Osamu returning and lets it go.</p><p>Osamu slips back into the booth. Akaashi notices that both twins have their red string tied to their middle fingers, mirrored on opposite hands.</p><p>“Short call?” Atsumu asks, mouth full of fried food.</p><p>“Yeah, he’s only gone to bed now. He’s wakin’ up again in, what, four hours?”</p><p>“Geh. Why’s he work so hard only when we’re gone.”</p><p>Osamu frowns. “He’s gonna die early if he keeps that up all the time.” He raises his brow. “Speaking of, don’t think I didn’t see you stayin’ at work all night during that last sprint, ‘tsumu.”</p><p>“So whatcha gotta go and leave Foxtrot fer? Come o-on, who knows what shit me ‘n Suna’re gonna get into without you to baby us.”</p><p>“Suna ain’t the type.”</p><p>“Fine, what shit <em>I</em> can drag ‘im into.”</p><p>Osamu scoffs as he digs into his own food. “Stop sayin’ that, we’re eatin’.”</p><p>Atsumu cheerfully ignores his brother, addressing Akaashi again. “Oh, but actually, ‘Kaashi-kun—if y’know anyone lookin’ for a job in tech management, hit me up? This loser ‘ere,” he jabs a thumb at Osamu, “is leavin’ me in the lurch to go open some food truck or whatever, and I need prob’ly a whole new team to pick up the slack.”</p><p>“I’m openin’ a whole store in the fall,” deadpans Osamu, “and, thanks, I guess?”</p><p>“I’ll keep that in mind,” Akaashi says. </p><p>The trio continue chatting amicably for the rest of their dinner. Akaashi offers to pay for the meal, but the twins wave him off, Osamu citing Atsumu’s abrasive behavior as he offers to pay for Akaashi’s portion. Some fighting over the bill later, the twins cover the meal in exchange for the “rematch of ‘yer dull, adult lives” whenever a reasonable number of their friend group has time together in Japan.</p><p>Akaashi finds himself looking forward to going home already.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Next time: fun time with filters!</p><p>When Akaashi curses Oikawa, Oikawa sneezes twice in between a fit of coughs, white chrysanthemum petals drifting onto the bed. It’s 3 am; he groggily gets up, groaning at the mess, and quickly sneaks off to flush them as quietly as possible so as to not wake Iwaizumi in the next room over.</p><p>Of course the Miya twins are running a tech startup. What else did you expect of me, really.</p><p>And if we’re being precise, Oikawa’s quote includes one metaphor and one (sappy paperback) simile (I think. Oh god it’s been so long since I’ve had to think about that—call me out if I’m wrong aha haha).</p><p>And… I don’t know who decided that Atsumu should dethrone Oikawa as Fancontent’s #1 Flirty Trash, but I guess I’m here for it. </p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0011"><h2>11. Chapter 11</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>In which Bokuto and Akaashi walk home from a party... again.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Yike before I knew it it was already Saturday! (but not in all parts of the world...?) I'm really sorry, I've had this chapter queued up; I just forgot to manually publish it. I guess I should use the automatic chapter scheduler, but I don't trust it completely! </p><p>Also, when third-person-limited-voice Akaashi calls Bokuto his “friend”, I just roll around and cry-laugh on my keyboard. Every time. Hack my cameras, you’ll see me doing it.</p><p>Ah, one last thing. (Minor spoilers for the first fic in the series, ) The party in this chapter is the same one as the epilogue of that fic. Oikawa had hanahaki, but he's recovered, and they're celebrating in an Izakaya with some BBQ!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It’s been a week since Akaashi landed in Japan. After taking the weekend off, he returns to work on Monday.</p><p>He <em>isn’t </em>expecting a lunchbox on his desk, and he definitely doesn't feel a sting when one isn’t there, but he is readily happy to see Bokuto wander over right before lunch, bringing with him a double portion of food to share.</p><p>Akaashi is allowed to feel happy to see his friend after being apart for so long.</p><p>His red string seems to think so too, twisting smoothly in the wind, whole and bright between them.</p><p>Akaashi enjoys Bokuto’s company, although it’s spent in a large group of mutual friends. He learns about Yukie’s recent experiments with protein shakes, and Bokuto eagerly volunteers to try them (“Those mint ones were really great, Yukippe!” “Hehe, thanks Bokkun, but you’re the only one who thought so…”). He hears about Kaori’s new girlfriend, about Komi’s pet chinchilla, about Sarukui’s guitar lessons.</p><p>Bokuto is… just as he always is when with groups of people, happy and thriving on the energy.</p><p>Akaashi is curious about Bokuto’s odd coldness from while Akaashi was away, but Akaashi reasons that it’s just the way Bokuto is with people he can’t talk to in person. It is harder to maintain friendship without physical proximity. </p><p>So when Bokuto gets up alone after eating, Akaashi doesn’t pull him away for a quick conversation, to ask why he had been so distant when Akaashi was away.</p>
<hr/><p>“Kageyamaaaa—” Hinata’s voice pitches up and down unsteadily as he’s dragged bodily from his seat.</p><p>“Why’d you have to—in what universe could you outdrink Suga-buchou—” Kageyama mutters, basically to himself, as he tries readjusting his grip on Hinata’s torso.</p><p>“But he said… he said that it’s ok if I drink, because—because I have frie-ends to take care of meeee…”</p><p>“That’s a very careless way of thinking,” Akaashi comments as he helps Kageyama haul Hinata away from the table. He notices a sparkling red thread wind from Kageyama’s hand around both their upper bodies before disappearing into the folds of Hinata’s massive blue hoodie. </p><p>Throughout that entire evening, he couldn’t help but notice the strings of many colors drifting over the table, periodically shifting in the wind as the group ate, drank, and chattered heartily to celebrate Oikawa’s recent recovery.</p><p>Bokuto’s jaw had dropped in worry as Oikawa recounted the story, but it was immediately replaced with bubbling joy at his friends’ union. </p><p>“You really shouldn’t have let it go on for so long, trying to deal with it by yourself,” Akaashi had commented. “Calling Suga-san was the best choice you made.”</p><p>Oikawa had snorted at that. “Hy-po-crite! Hypocrite, Aka-chan.” Without giving Akaashi a chance to respond, he continued, “But we’re not worrying about that right now. Tonight is about me and Iwa-chan. Come on, bottoms up!” </p><p>And, it really was. Whenever one of Iwaizumi’s or Oikawa’s adjacent hands was above the table—which wasn’t that frequently, Akaashi had noted—he could see a red string float into view and almost twirl happily in the air. It was almost as if it was celebrating the two joined hands.</p><p>Although, a close contender for Akaashi’s interest was the string between the two youngest seated at the table. As they battled it out over the barbecue, over the sides, and over the desserts, the string twisted around them and their chopsticks, mischievously getting tangled once in a while. Kageyama had scowled as one chopstick somehow slipped from his hands into the cracks between the plates stacked densely on the table, and Hinata had almost choked with laughter on his mouthful of pork. </p><p>At one point, Suga pulled out his phone and asked the waitress to take a photo of their group. She had happily obliged, adding that if they posted the photo with the restaurant’s filter, they would be entered into a raffle for a pair of movie tickets. Oikawa and Suga had excitedly jumped on the opportunity, and Akaashi noticed that even Kageyama was surreptitiously poking about on his phone after Suga had forwarded the picture.</p><p>Suddenly struck with a sense of being left out of the “pretty setter squad,” Akaashi had retrieved his phone as well. (Akaashi maintains that Oikawa’s naming sense, while perhaps acute with royalty-related labels for their group of friends, had perhaps run dry for this particular subset. Kageyama must agree, because he frowns a little deeper every time someone mentions “pretty” and “setter” together.)</p><p>As the familiar grinning fox bloomed through his screen, he had remembered a brief moment from his dinner with the Miyas about alpha testing for filters. He glanced over at Suga and Daichi, snapping a quick shot. </p><p>Suga was reaching over to Hinata’s face, and Daichi had leaned over to try to block Kageyama’s incoming grab towards the redhead’s fluffy crown. Remarkably, both Suga’s and Daichi’s faces were cleanly visible. The app picked out their hands, and a glittering red loop appeared between them. </p><p>Akaashi had pulled at the line on his screen experimentally, and it curled and waved under his fingertips. Mesmerized for a couple seconds, Akaashi eventually stopped and saved a satisfactory version of the image to show its subjects.</p><p>At that, the table was delighted—“Those snarky idiots did something cool, huh?” Iwaizumi had said, clearly proud of his underclassmen. Oikawa had immediately gripped his shoulder in an inescapable hold, practically launching his hand between them holding Akaashi’s phone in the air for a photo. He relaxed his other hand to make a peace sign that Iwaizumi reluctantly mirrored. </p><p>Akaashi couldn’t exactly tell Oikawa that the string portrayed in the photo should have been on his other hand, but the joy on their faces (yes, even Iwaizumi’s) was better than anything he could have conjured with the invisible strings only he could see.</p>
<hr/><p>As Akaashi double-checks the booth for any leftover belongings, its occupants now slowly filtering out the door, he remembers that one notable member of said circle had not asked for a turn on his phone. He turns towards the door, noticing Bokuto watching him intently from the exit. </p><p>He’s not sure why he’s feeling so nervous as he hurries over. “Sorry to make you wait, Bokuto-san.”</p><p>Bokuto smiles, big and bright as usual. “No prob. I think everyone’s good to get home safe. Let’s go?” He holds the door open. “So! You met the Miya twins in London?”</p><p>Akaashi nods as they step into the cool air.</p><p>“How are they doing?”</p><p>Akaashi considers this. “Argumentative, as usual. Also, it seems like Osamu-san’s going to split off to open a restaurant.”</p><p>Bokuto whistles, impressed. “Huh! Man, they’re just nonstop.” He pauses a bit before his next question. “...and, ‘tsum-tsum?”</p><p>Akaashi considers this. “It’s a startup, but Foxtrot’s going very steady. Atsumu-san’s definitely overworking himself, but he has people around him to watch for that. I think.” </p><p>A pause as they continue towards the residential area. Akaashi is beginning to really miss Bokuto’s usual tendency to drive conversation forward.</p><p>“What about Kuroo-san?” Akaashi finally blurts.</p><p>“Huh?”</p><p>“How is he doing? We didn’t see him today.”</p><p>Bokuto looks taken aback. “What do you mean? He’s doing fine—” His eyebrows twitch at the memory of something. “Well, as fine as he can be right now, I guess.”</p><p>“Oh?”</p><p>Bokuto starts, as if he’s surprised Akaashi was listening to the last comment. “Ah—I mean, yeah, he wasn’t able to make it today, but nothing’s really wrong. Nothing <em>really</em> bad. Uh—” </p><p>Akaashi cuts off the stammering with a sigh. “It’s alright. You don’t have to tell me if you really don’t want to.”</p><p>“Ah—I mean I want to, but it’s not my secret to tell—I mean, nothing’s going on, but—”</p><p>Akaashi can practically see steam rising from Bokuto’s hair as the latter tries to change topics in an elegant way. Failing that, he just speaks directly.</p><p>“Um, but about Atsumu-kun—” </p><p>Akaashi glances at Bokuto, surprised at the unshortened name. Bokuto’s wearing a frustrated but expectant expression. He asks, “Is that all? What about in London?”</p><p>“ … what about London?”</p><p>“Did you two do anything fun?”</p><p>“We had fish and chips at that cafe Suga-san likes. With Osamu-san.” </p><p>Bokuto still doesn’t look satisfied, so Akaashi tries, “And they showed me how to access these new filters?”</p><p>He remembers that Bokuto hadn’t taken any photos with the red string filter. “Do you want to take a photo—” he asks, before he realizes that he’s basically offered himself to take a picture together. Akaashi freezes, mouth open, but it’s too late to retract the words.</p><p>Bokuto very obviously registers the regret on Akaashi’s face, and his smile is more strained than before. “It’s alright, I’m good,” he says softly. </p><p>Part of Akaashi pats himself on the back for not putting his heart through the wringer by getting a sparkly artificial photo of the very real, very visible manifestation of his own heartache.</p><p>Another part of Akaashi kicks himself for not just getting a cute picture, dammit. Pictures last forever. </p><p>“I guess I never did get the chance to ask,” Bokuto begins. “About red strings.”</p><p>Akaashi remains silent. He hadn’t forgotten, but with the growing distance between them in the last month, he had assumed Bokuto was satisfied just knowing that strings of any color existed.</p><p>“I remember a long time ago, in high school, you said that I have one, right?”</p><p>Akaashi nods slowly. Bokuto’s finally going to ask who’s on the other end of his string, and Akaashi has had time to prepare his answer. <em>The string ends just a little bit out, and I don’t know who’s on the other end. </em></p><p>He’d reassure him, again: <em>You shouldn’t let it worry you, Bokuto-san. You said you were going to build your own happiness, and you can. You can find someone yourself, someone better—</em></p><p>“Do you have one, too?”</p><p>Akaashi’s throat catches. That wasn’t the question he was supposed to ask. He instinctively fidgets with his right hand—</p><p>“You do, don’t you?” Bokuto says softly, and he’s <em>looking at Akaashi’s hands</em>. Akaashi gasps, ripping his fingers apart and whipping them behind his back. The sharp movement startles Bokuto, but he looks back towards Akaashi’s face.</p><p>“Ah, I uh—” Akaashi stammers.</p><p>Bokuto’s round yellow eyes are boring down on him. </p><p>He can’t bring himself to lie.</p><p>“...I do,” he admits and pulls his gaze forwards.</p><p>“Have you met them yet?”</p><p>Akaashi fidgets with his hands behind his back. Old habits are hard to break.</p><p>When he doesn’t get a response, Bokuto asks another question. “Are you waiting for them?”</p><p>“No,” Akaashi answers, too quickly.</p><p>“… If you don’t find them, would you be alright with… anyone else?”</p><p>Akaashi blinks away the hope rising in his heart, flooding up through his cheeks and into his eyes. </p><p>He’s not even looking at Bokuto’s face, but he can feel his friend focused completely on him and his expressions. Akaashi could so easily just ask Bokuto to… to be his. He could take that risk, take advantage of Bokuto’s softheartedness. </p><p>But after all this time, he really does owe Bokuto his honesty. Akaashi considers the question instead. </p><p>“I… don’t think so,” he says, realizing the truth of it as the words leave his mouth. </p><p>He really wouldn’t. He’d spent so many years clutching at this string, fluttering near Bokuto like so many moths to flames. He might have been a slightly more intelligent moth, one that had prolonged his stay in that bright aura, but it’s quickly approaching the time for him to head back into the night.</p><p>Akaashi is prepared to leave. Being alone is doable—he could throw himself into work, or he could throw himself across the ocean, actually. That worked in the past. But that’s all he can manage, for now, at least. Maybe if time passes he could adopt a pet, maybe even a—no, he probably shouldn’t adopt an owl.</p><p>They walk in silence until they arrive at Akaashi’s apartment. Akaashi finally looks over to see Bokuto, expecting perhaps to see a disappointed expression. Bokuto had sounded sad. Was he worried about Akaashi? It would be Akaashi’s fault if Bokuto were upset right now, but he’s exhausted of ideas to cheer him up this late at night when Akaashi’s so tired himself. He’s not particularly interested in thinking at all, to be honest.</p><p>Bokuto isn’t drooping. He’s standing tall and straight, hair as spiky as ever. He’s not making eye contact.</p><p>Akaashi walks up the stairs, but this time, Bokuto stands at the bottom step. Akaashi pauses at the door, hand lightly resting on the handle but not gripping it.</p><p>Bokuto looks up now, eyes fixing on something just over Akaashi’s shoulder. Akaashi looks down towards Bokuto, whose face is half-shadowed in the night. His eyes gleam in the limited light, but something in the shadows casts a pinched, undecipherable expression onto his face.</p><p>“Did you pick which promotion to take?” He says, voice low and soft.</p><p>“No.”</p><p>Neither party moves.</p><p>“You still want me to take the foreign position,” Akaashi intones. It’s not a question.</p><p>“Yeah.”</p><p>“I’ll think about it, Bokuto-san.”</p><p>Bokuto nods, glancing up at Akaashi’s eyes briefly before he angles his body away and strides away. Akaashi is struck with a sudden urge to run down and grab Bokuto’s hand. </p><p>But what would he say?</p><p>Instead, he worries at his pinky, as always, watching the red string sway in the cool air as Bokuto walks away.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Next time: tea alone, tea with friends?</p><p>Hinata wearing an oversized blue hoodie<a>????</a></p><p> </p><p>I know I have a penchant for writing characters that slip into self-deprecating reveries. I’m really sorry. I’d also like to apologize to every pretty setter I subject to this, past, present and future. And maybe also Kuroo. He seems like the type, to be honest.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0012"><h2>12. Chapter 12</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>In which Akaashi makes a decision.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Akaashi wakes up the next morning, spending a few minutes in groggy confusion before the weight of the conversation from the day before bears down on him again.</p><p>It’s the weekend, but he’s up as early as usual. He sighs before stumbling over to his kitchen to make himself a cup of tea. </p><p>He stares down into the mug, watching the bag bob up and down. Both he and Bokuto were sober for the majority of that evening. As he sorts through the memories, he cringes a little at his own melodramatic thinking—comparing himself to a moth flying to a flame? Maybe it was the moody quiet of the evening, or maybe he was nervous or exhausted from work.</p><p>From the distance of one night’s sleep and a cup of caffeine away, he’s able to think about it more objectively. More or less.</p><p>Bokuto is drawing away from Akaashi. Why? Given everything—all the noisy signals and all the unexplained tensions—it seems like the most reasonable explanation is the best-case-scenario. He’s growing out of Akaashi. Especially at the end of the night. Akaashi was so sure that Bokuto was going to approach some kind of emo-mode, or pouty fit, but he had instead looked Akaashi in the eye and stayed on topic, discussing Akaashi’s promotion. </p><p>A small spot of sour pain sprouts at the bottom of Akaashi’s chest, but he stamps it down. He had felt enough of that yesterday. </p><p>This is what he had hoped for, pretty much since high school: a level of emotional maturity that any of their mutual friends from the time would be shocked to see. Bokuto could never transform overnight—Akaashi doesn’t think anyone could—but something had catalyzed the transformation while he was on the business trip, and he’s watching the metamorphosis now. </p><p>He’s incredibly proud of his friend. He’s free to take Bokuto’s advice and move overseas.</p><p>Akaashi sighs, head pounding, before putting the cooling tea away on his counter untouched. He heads back into his bed and buries his head into the pillow, drifting off to sleep.</p>
<hr/><p>“Akaashi.”</p><p>Akaashi snaps his head up from where he had been abusing the keyboard in a fit of furious productivity for the last hour. His fingertips cry relief, but he doesn’t lift them away from his desk as he gives Washio a curious glance.</p><p>“Are you alright?”</p><p>“Yes?” </p><p>Washio frowns as he looms over the threshold of Akaashi’s office. His impressive height almost fills the doorway.</p><p>“We didn’t see you at lunch this week.”</p><p>“Ah, I’ve been rather busy.” Akaashi motions at the empty convenience store lunchbox on his desk.</p><p>“Hm.” Washio doesn’t sound convinced, but he doesn’t continue, either. “Well, don’t forget to attend the org meeting later. Onaga wanted to remind you, but he’s too scared of you to tell you in person.” Washio then nods, seemingly satisfied with the message he conveyed, and then backs out of the room.</p><p>Akaashi wants to protest and ask why he would be scary, but a quick glance at a wall mirror reveals his baggy eyes and a ghostlike expression that he hasn’t been able to wipe from his face. Not that he’s been sleeping enough to constitute a real try at “rest”.</p>
<hr/><p>He swears he hears Konoha breathe a sigh of relief as Oikawa and Suga barge into his office one day and physically cart him out of the building.</p><p>As they sit down at a nearby shop, his two friends ordering a massive plate of onigiri to split, Akaashi finally speaks.</p><p>“So… good to see you two.”</p><p>“Damn right,” Suga scoffs with a smile. “You look like death, Akaashi.”</p><p>Akaashi’s mouth pinches downwards. “Thanks, Suga-san.”</p><p>“We say this with love,” Oikawa scolds. “Aka-chan, you’re getting extreme. I heard from Makki, who heard it from Konokkun, that you’re less a person and more like a reclusive dark cloud, these days.”</p><p>The food arrives, and Akaashi tentatively bites the first one. His cheap convenience store lunch boxes have nothing on an actual, fresh onigiri, and he closes his eyes in sheer joy. </p><p>His friends allow him to eat in peaceful silence for the first two onigiri. As he unwraps the third, Suga leans forward. </p><p>“What’s on your mind, Akaashi?”</p><p>Akaashi slowly bites into his onigiri, but his two friends stay attentive, waiting for him to speak. Finally, he says, “It’s about my career path.”</p><p>Suga’s eyebrow raises. Oikawa, on the other hand, looks completely unsurprised. “Well? Go on,” he prompts. </p><p>Akaashi lets his hands rest on the table still holding the salmon onigiri. </p><p>“I’m trying to plan the move. To Europe.”</p><p>Suga hums. “So soon?”</p><p>Akaashi shakes his head. “There’s a lot to do, though, once the location is finalized.”</p><p>“Hm, even if you’re bringing people from here, you’ll be responsible for hiring a whole location’s worth of employees, huh,” Oikawa contemplates. “And then you have to coordinate, assign, make proposals and meet with foreign clients…”</p><p>Akaashi had thought about all these things, over and over. “That isn’t too bad. Honestly, all the work sounds interesting and exciting. Even learning whatever language it is I’ll need to speak. I also want to try out the boot-camp interview system that you’ve been working on lately, Suga-san.”</p><p>Suga nods enthusiastically. “It’ll be interesting on a large scale, for sure.”</p><p>Oikawa leans forward. “So… what’s the dull look, for?”</p><p>Akaashi raises the onigiri to his lips again. Aside from the Bokuto-sized elephant in the room, he can’t shake off this feeling of impending loneliness.</p><p>“I think I’ll miss you guys,” he says in a flash of candor. He flicks his eyes up, expecting to see shock or skepticism, but is instead greeted with a pair of soft, understanding expressions.</p><p>Suga smiles. “We’d miss you too. You always seem to be so self-sufficient and collected, but… it wouldn’t be our old volleyball squad without you.”</p><p>Oikawa adds, “You know, Aka-chan, you’re allowed to depend on your friends. I mean, apparent introvert that you are, you really do stick with us, through thick and thin. It’s good to rely on the network you’ve spent so long building.”</p><p>Akaashi thinks this over as he stares at his half-eaten onigiri. “Thanks,” he eventually manages. </p><p>“It’s hard, making career choices like this. It's easy to convince yourself that the thing everyone pressures you to do is the thing that you yourself want,” Suga muses.</p><p>“Sometimes you want to pick the harder option just because it’s harder, but you should make sure you know where you’re heading before diving in,” Oikawa mentions, briefly glancing at Suga, who hums and closes his eyes.</p><p>“Well, these are the big ticket questions, though. Career choices, huh.”</p><p>The three fall into a contemplative silence as Akaashi finishes eating.</p><p>Eventually, Suga leans back. “You know, for this meeting I kind of expected something more along the lines of a high school crush. Mild jabbing, relentless teasing? That sort of thing? I should have known better. Oikawa here said you don’t typically get <em>this</em> melodramatic about Bokuto.”</p><p>Oikawa’s mouth curls into a self-satisfied grin. “Yeah, he owes me ten bucks. The thing about your decade-long crush is that, at this point, you’re just too used to just living with it.”</p><p>Akaashi immediately wants to take back the earlier gratitude he expressed for his friends.</p>
<hr/><p>Akaashi admits that, without Bokuto’s constant interruptions, he is markedly more productive in the mornings.</p><p>He’s walking over to Hanemi’s office with the list of requests from a particularly belligerent client when he notices that the door is closed. He’s turning around to head back to his desk to email her instead, when the door all but slams open and Bokuto strides out.</p><p>They make eye contact for one brief, terrifying moment. Akaashi is frozen in place, unsure if it’s appropriate to head into the office after all, when Bokuto begins to move towards him, moving around Akaashi, giving him a perfectly measured radius of personal space. </p><p>Akaashi hates it. “Bokuto-san,” he manages.</p><p>“Akaashi.” He pronounces his name clearly and briskly. </p><p>Frankly, this is terrifying, but Akaashi continues. “Do you have time to talk today?”</p><p>Bokuto squints at Akaashi, a familiar befuddled owl expression giving way to measured delight. “Oh! You’re eating with us again?” He breaks eye contact, shifting his gaze around before adding, “I actually do have another box for you today. If you still want one.”</p><p>Akaashi hides his surprise—he didn’t expect that after he had holed up in his own office for a whole week. But first things first. “I do. But if it’s alright with you, I would like to eat somewhere more private, this time.”</p><p>Bokuto’s eyes widen at this, and there’s a hint of something uneasy in his face. But he nods, slowly. “Alright. I’ll see you then, same time as usual.” Then he walks off at the same determined speed. </p><p>Akaashi releases a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding before slapping his face a couple of times and continuing with his business.</p>
<hr/><p>Akaashi inhales. “I want to apply for the position of VP Human Resources.”</p><p>Bokuto’s eyes round to perfect circles before narrowing down to uneven little squares of gold.</p><p>“Akaashi, I said, you need to stop underestimating—”</p><p>“I’m not,” Akaashi interrupts. He’s proud of how calm and steady his voice is. Bokuto blinks at the interruption. </p><p>“Bokuto-san, I am very good at making lists. There are many reasons I might take the European VP position. The work itself is interesting and high-impact, of course, and there’s the excitement of living abroad.”</p><p>Bokuto hasn’t been making eye contact, and his eyes twitch up before he slants them away again.</p><p>“But Bokuto-san, I’m excited about the work in headquarters. I have new ideas, for the company and for HR. In a way, I’d be able to impact every new employee, helping them the way I was helped when I first started.” Akaashi struggles for a second with a comparison before explaining, “It’s like being a control tower… or like… a setter?” </p><p>Akaashi’s rewarded with an interested peek from Bokuto with the volleyball comparison, and Akaashi’s lips curl upward a little again.</p><p>“And as for travelling… I travel a lot for work, but not much outside of that.” He quickly blurts out, “And my last year of university was maybe less about exploring new places and more about… escaping or running away…” Akaashi charges forward before Bokuto can ask for reasons. His conflicted feelings, while relevant, don’t need to be dissected in this conversation at this time.</p><p>“But what helped instead was you, and everyone else here. Being depended on and depending on others.” He massages his hand idly. “So I think what I’m trying to say is that I finally understand what you were trying to say before. That I was overthinking but not really thinking about myself at all.”</p><p>“You’re right, by the way,” Akaashi holds Bokuto’s gaze unflinchingly, but gently nonetheless. “I do watch you carefully and try to understand you, a lot. And I learned this really late, but you know me… just as well, really.”</p><p>Bokuto’s face has been stuttering in and out of attentive shock and concentrated consideration. Moments pass before Bokuto begins to brighten and settle on a glowing grin. </p><p>“Wow!”</p><p>Akaashi waits, but Bokuto doesn’t elaborate.</p><p>“...Yes, wow?”</p><p>Bokuto’s still beaming. “That’s so smart of you, Akaashi! I didn’t know you had so many cool plans and—and that you liked home so much!”</p><p>Akaashi smiles. </p><p>“So does that mean you’re going to stay in Tokyo and we can all keep hanging out? You’re going to keep playing volleyball with us?”</p><p>“Is that your priority? You only want me for my setting skills?”</p><p>“Your tosses are the best, Akaashi—wait! Stop distracting me! So you’ll be able to keep eating lunch with me and the team, then? The lunchboxes worked? Mom said that you reach a man’s heart through his stomach—” </p><p>Akaashi’s heart skips a beat, but Bokuto continues unfazed.</p><p>“And that you can’t think on an empty stomach, so I really did help you, then?”</p><p>Akaashi meets the hopeful smile with his own grin, unable to hold it back. Bokuto really needs to learn to watch what he implies. His newfound love for idioms could use some refining.</p><p>Bokuto hoots in glee and wraps Akaashi in a hug over the table. Akaashi panics for a second to try to right an almost-tipped glass of water—before it spills anyway.</p><p>His shirt is damp where it reaches the puddle, but Akaashi finds himself laughing and relaxing into the hug.</p><p>“Akaashi—I’m so glad—I mean you have a lot of time left so you should keep thinking but I’m really happy and—” Did he just hiccup? “And uh—if you ever feel down again you can rely on me, alright?”</p><p>Akaashi smiles into Bokuto’s shoulder. “Of course, Bokuto-san.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Next time: A party, and everyone’s invited.</p><p>Bokuto didn’t know how to cook before that first box for Akaashi. He bothered his dad and then binged cooking videos; it took him only 2 attempts to create something of giftable quality, family-approved. 1. Akaashi is bad at cooking 2. Bokuto picked up Japanese cuisine freakishly quickly, so he’s probably a genius or something.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0013"><h2>13. Chapter 13</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>In which Akaashi eats many onigiri.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Hello all! Sorry for skipping Wed's update! I ran out of buffer (by not writing for two weeks oops) and I've been struggling a little bit with how to wrap the story up! It's harder than I expected. I'm aiming to release the next chapter (the last one!) on next Wednesday.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Akaashi breathes in deeply as he eyes himself in the long mirror. His room is small and unassuming, and the mirror is usually hidden on the inside of his closet door. </p><p>He sighs as he eyes the deep blue suit and crisp white shirt. He hesitates only a second before grabbing the tie Bokuto had given him two years ago on his birthday, looping the soft bronze cloth around his neck. He buttons up the jacket, smiling a bit at the little owl image on the bottom of the tie. It would be hidden by the jacket, of course, but Bokuto would know it was there.</p><p>It was Bokuto’s day—finally—the day that he would be formally announced as the successor to Bokuto Hanemi as president of the Fuku Hotel Group.</p><hr/><p>“Aka-chan, there you are!” Oikawa’s face lights up as he recognizes Akaashi at the coat check-in. Iwaizumi stands behind him, straight-backed and with hands clasped behind his back. </p><p>“Oikawa-san, Iwaizumi-san, glad to see you made it.” Akaashi quickly walks over as Iwaizumi hands two woolen overcoats to the clerk. </p><p>He’s been here for an hour already, greeting important figures and keeping up an amicable but professional demeanor as well as he could. At this point, he figures he deserves a small break.</p><p>While he does recognize most of the people here, the majority of them are higher-ups and colleagues—it’s refreshing to see a friendly face that isn’t about to marvel at his <em>ambition, at such a young age!</em> or, sometimes, <em>So, for how long </em>have<em> you known the Bokutos?</em></p><p>“Thank you for inviting us,” Iwaizumi nods, ever formal. Akaashi tilts his head in acknowledgement.</p><p>“This isn’t quite as formal as I expected,” Oikawa comments as the trio begin walking towards the main ballroom. He’s one to talk, adjusting his spotless cream-colored suit jacket, perfectly coordinated and perfectly vivid against the crowd of stiff partygoers.</p><p>“Yes, it’s Bokuto-san’s event, after all. He had free reign over the guest list and forced his way into managing the catering choices.”</p><p>“Oh! That explains these!” Oikawa points towards the nearest food table, filled with traditional food. The center panel is filled with onigiri. Akaashi eagerly takes a plate and fills it up with three. On closer inspection, the nori and toppings are arranged to look like the faces of little owls. </p><p>“How cute!” Oikawa coos at his onigiri as Akaashi eats half of one in one bite. “Didn’t I hear that Refreshing-kun brought along some baby crows from his company today?”</p><p>“It’s more chaos than should be introduced into a venue like this,” Iwaizumi adds, calmly selecting a glass of champagne from a nearby table. He glances over at Oikawa. “You. Don’t make things harder than they have to be—leave Kageyama alone.”</p><p>Oikawa huffs daintily. “I make no promises. Tobio-chan’s been terrible on the project lately. I even had to write him a letter of recommendation.”</p><p>Iwaizumi sighs, just as Daichi approaches the group. “Wow, welcome me a bit more coldly, why don’t you. Everything alright here?”</p><p>Oikawa’s laser focus is already zoned in on the cluster of people behind Daichi. Spotting Kageyama, Oikawa grins and practically skips off. Iwaizumi pinches the bridge of his nose. “Off my hands. Hot potato, Sawamura.”</p><p>Daichi shrugs. “It’ll be fine. Probably. But speaking of inevitable chaos, where’s the star of the evening tonight?”</p><p>“I’m actually not sure. He was greeting guests a while earlier, but he disappeared half an hour ago.”</p><p>Iwaizumi shakes his head lightly. “You dropped the potato.”</p><p>“Well, at least we know where Kuroo is,” Akaashi gestures behind him, where Kuroo’s standing with a calm smirk as Oikawa looms over Kageyama to whisper something. </p><p>As he turns back around, he sees Daichi’s face fall a little as he looks over at their friends. Daichi quickly smoothes his face out, shrugs, and grabs food for himself. “Wow, these are some really delicious hors d’oeuvres.” </p><p>Akaashi is about to follow the example of the two responsible (?) adults (?) he’s standing with and ignore any impending disasters, but this plan is immediately upturned by a peal of hideous laughter and a dramatic, badly-acted wail. </p><p>Akaashi raises his eyebrows as Hinata runs over, almost tumbling into Akaashi’s shoulder. “Akaashi-san! Uh…”</p><p>Hinata is wide-eyed and frantic, so how could Akaashi not take pity? He looks over and sees Oikawa swooning into Suga, a splash of some drink staining the entire front of his shirt. Kuroo is doubled over laughing, and Kageyama is standing stock-still. </p><p>Akaashi turns over his other shoulder, where Iwaizumi and Daichi are very determinedly talking to each other with their backs towards the whole mess.</p><p>Akaashi sighs. “What happened, Hinata?” He starts walking towards his friends, Hinata stumbling back into position and quickly following. </p><p>“Actually, I’m not sure, Oikawa-san whispered something to Kageyama and then Kageyama jumped up and then this happened—”</p><p>“Akaashi!” Suga grins. Oikawa’s holding an empty champagne glass. Kageyama’s clutching a glass of a clear, colorless liquid, and judging by his decidedly sober expression, Akaashi would bet that he was drinking water.</p><p>Oikawa, the giant baby. The front of his shirt wasn’t even discolored, just wet. </p><p>“I’m gonna take him to the bathroom, where we’re going to take care of this <em>emergency</em>,” Suga laughs. </p><p>Akaashi feels a headache coming on, but he still answers, “I do have some stain remover in the coatroom… ”</p><p>“Oh! I can get that for you!” Hinata dashes off before Akaashi can point out that only he can access his own belongings.</p><p>“Ah—” </p><p>Hinata’s red hair has already disappeared into the crowd.</p><p>Akaashi sighs and follows him briskly, the sound of Kuroo’s chortles restarting behind him.</p><hr/><p>“Sorry, Akaashi-san!” Hinata says, again, holding onto Akaashi’s stain remover stick. The tool is laughably small compared to the stain, but again, it was a fresh spill that could probably be washed out. Akaashi mentions this to Hinata, but that only makes him more embarrassed and frantic, so Akaashi gently encourages him to give the remover to Oikawa anyway.</p><p>“Are you nervous to be here, Hinata?”</p><p>Hinata looks up. His face is pinched and his eyes are tense, and he looks ready to vomit. “How did you know?”</p><p>“... Just intuition.”</p><p>Hinata breathes out a strained sigh. “Yeah, this place is super fancy. I didn’t really have a suit ‘cuz I borrowed my cousin’s for job-hunting, and it didn’t even fit that well anyway. I bought this one, but then they said it had to be tailored, and then I said it didn’t matter that the legs were a little crinkly at the bottom, but then the lady made me come in, and then they said they didn’t fix everything, and I’m kind of worried I look dumb ‘cuz I didn’t really understand what she was saying—”</p><p>“You don’t look dumb at all, Hinata. You look very dashing right now.”</p><p>Hinata blushes a little at this and mumbles something Akaashi doesn’t catch.</p><p>“Pardon?”</p><p>“I mean—I know he’s gonna think I look stupid no matter what I wear, though.”</p><p>Ah.</p><p>“I’m sure Kageyama thinks you look handsome, as well.” Akaashi peeks over to check Hinata’s red string, currently caught in his cufflinks. </p><p>Hinata’s face ignites and he begins scratching his head nervously to try to hide his face.</p><p>“I dunno… he’s not even looking at me. I finally managed to really start talking with him when Kuroo-san came over, but then this happened…” Hinata trails off as he clutches the stain remover more tightly.</p><p>“Hey, Akaashi-san. Um…”</p><p>“Yes?”</p><p>“Do you ever just really want to try really hard for someone? And like… want to make them think you’re cool? But the harder you try and the more you work you just get lamer and lamer and you just wanna kick yourself?” Hinata frowns at himself. “Well, probably not though. You’re always super calm and collected. Anyone who meets you must think you’re so cool.”</p><p>Akaashi is flattered and surprised. “Well, of course not. I mess up all the time. I don’t think being ‘cool’ is all that great, either.”</p><p>Hinata gives him a confused look, so he continues. “Putting effort into something means you’ll get strong at it, you know? And people look up to strength. Rather than being unapproachable or ‘cool’, it’s much better to be sincere and inspiring, right?”</p><p>Hinata considers this very seriously before the lightbulb goes off. “Ah, like Noya-senpai! Or Bokuto-san, right?”</p><p>Akaashi is briefly taken aback. “Ye-yes, I suppose so.”</p><p>Hinata nods firmly as they arrive back at the ballroom door. “That makes a lot of sense.”</p><p>Akaashi peeks through the doorway, where he can see that Kuroo has found Bokuto, and the two are standing in a group chatting with… the Miyas?</p><p>Akaashi turns to Hinata. “Hinata, Suga-san and Oikawa-san are probably in the bathrooms that these signs point toward. Are you fine getting there on your own?”</p><p>“Yeah! Thanks again, Akaashi-san!” Hinata turns on his heels and begins to run before he catches himself, slowing down to a walk as he rounds a corner.</p><hr/><p>“Hold on, yer not even goin’ to sue them?” Osamu asks with a heavy-lidded, questioning look. “I thought y’guys had been workin’ on that design for over a year.”</p><p>Daishou shrugs. “Not right now. We’re going to give it a few months; after they’ve invested a bit more time and money into construction, we’ll hit them with the claim.”</p><p>Kuroo gives an irritated grin as Atsumu whistles. “That’s one way to take on competitors.”</p><p>Daishou smirks. “One way, yeah. Another is to forge strong alliances, yeah? But I guess some of us are just too soft-hearted for that kind of thing.”</p><p>Kuroo glances over, noticing Akaashi’s approach. Bokuto’s back is to Akaashi, and he tenses up briefly at the question before stammering, “Ah—I mean, I just—”</p><p>“Nothing wrong with a little romance, though?” Akaashi slips himself into the circle between Bokuto and Suna. Atsumu looks over at Akaashi, smile creeping across his face.</p><p>“Aren’t you the married man, here?” Kuroo jibes. </p><p>Daishou scoffs. “I thought <em>you</em> asked me to stop talking about my anniversary plans.”</p><p>Kuroo considers this before squinting, admitting, “Yeah, that’s fair, this is better than that saccharine garbage. Romance is for the weak and chivalry is dead. Go on, Daishou.”</p><p>“Now, now, Ku-roo-san,” Atsumu sings, emphasizing each syllable of Kuroo’s name. “Jus’ cuz yer always single and bitter dunn’ mean the rest of us are.”</p><p>Kuroo’s eyebrows raise. “Big words coming from someone third wheeling their brother.” </p><p>“Could hardly deny the world the face of th’ <em>better</em> twin. And why bring a boxed lunch when I can pick up summin’ sweet to go?” He winks at Akaashi. </p><p>Something like concern flashes quickly across Kuroo’s face. That’s right, he probably isn’t used to Atsumu’s antics. Akaashi doesn’t stop the snort at Atsumu’s clumsy euphemism. “I rather enjoy boxed lunches myself,” he comments with a small smile.</p><p>He steals a glance at Bokuto. He seems to sparkle a little at the compliment but continues eyeing Atsumu. </p><p>So it seems like Bokuto will still have his moments, and he seems to be happy enough to let Akaashi be around for some more of them. </p><p>Part of Akaashi niggles at him, reminding him that Bokuto needs to become independent. Akaashi shushes it. First of all, it’s Bokuto’s party. It’s his day today. </p><p>Secondly, and maybe more importantly, Akaashi had never really controlled Bokuto. The man had moods, but at the end of the day, he acted on his own. If anything, the last few days showed glimpses of the true influence Bokuto has on Fuku and on Akaashi himself.</p><p>This could have been frightening, but Akaashi feels only comfort and pride.</p><p>After a pause, Osamu comments, “Well, ‘tween the two ‘f us, it sure ain’t <em>you</em> who’s gonna be cookin’, literally anythin’, ever.” His ability to defuse his brother’s antics must be second nature, Akaashi muses. </p><p>“Ohh, what <em>ever</em> can I do. M’own flesh ‘n blood, cofounder of Foxtrot, runnin’ away to start his <em>own</em> business in ma time of need—”</p><p>“Hardly,” Osamu scoffs.</p><p>“—and, so that I can keep my livelihood afloat, what can be done? Who can fill this hole in my company and in my heart…How ‘bout Mister Worldwide, here?” Atsumu monologues dramatically. He swings his gaze over to Akaashi and raises his eyebrows cheerfully.</p><p>Before Akaashi has a chance to respond, Bokuto places a hand on his shoulder, subtly angling him away from Atsumu. </p><p>“Actually, I’m going to be relying on Akaashi as our new Vice President of Human Resources here in Fuku Hotel Group,” Bokuto parrots the whole title blandly. “He submitted the application and will be among the initial executives appointed when I take on leadership.”</p><p>“Awful possessive for an employer, huh?” Atsumu shrugs and leans back onto Osamu. “Well, if ya change yer mind, ya know how ta reach me,” Atsumu says lightly, making a ‘call me’ gesture with his free hand. His red string swings down loosely across the room, swinging through the gaps between people in the ballroom. It looks as if the person on the other end of the line is in the room.</p><p>Before Akaashi can give in to the urge to trace the string through the room, he feels Bokuto’s hand leave his shoulder. He hadn’t realized it was there for so long, but his shoulder feels cold where Bokuto had touched him earlier. </p><p>“Koutarou!” he hears Hanemi call. Looking over, Akaashi sees the rest of Bokuto’s family collected near a platform in front of a cameraman. Bokuto leaves reluctantly, and if Akaashi were also sad to see him go, he’d eat his foot before he lets anyone notice.</p><p>“Akaashi, you can go with him, if you want,” Kuroo says with a knowing smirk. </p><p><em>Dammit</em>. That perceptive schemer. </p><hr/><p>The Bokutos are a handsome family, Akaashi muses from a few feet away, behind the photographer. </p><p>Remi and Hanemi smile openly and freely. Remi’s hairstyle today is relatively tame, dyed a soft strawberry blonde, and Hanemi has her arms wrapped comically around her two sons, one angled high up around her eldest, the other tilting down around her youngest. </p><p>Hideyoshi has a mischievous smile pasted across his face. As the photographer pauses to adjust her camera, he pulls out a slice of cake from his pocket and shoves it into his mouth. Hanemi winces and Bokuto laughs as Remi shouts and tries to clean Hideyoshi’s face, scolding him all the while. </p><p>He hears a click, and notices that the photographer has managed to produce a polaroid camera and discreetly take a candid shot. She waves it back and forth before admiring her work, a gentle smile folding over her face as she walks over to the family.</p><p>“That photographer is a family friend. The daughter of Bokuto’s dad’s college buddy, I think.”</p><p>Akaashi startles as Kenma materializes behind him to deliver this information, nose still buried in the phone he’s holding. </p><p>“Kozume?” Akaashi doesn’t bother to mask the surprise that Kenma had managed to make it to this large social function, especially given his recent string of absences.</p><p>Hanemi hugs the photographer, pulling away and placing a hand on her cheek. The two chat briefly before turning towards Bokuto.</p><p>“Kuro’s taking me to a new dessert shop that’s opening tomorrow,” Kenma explains.</p><p>“Ah,” Akaashi sympathizes. Getting to the heart through the stomach: an admirable and effective tactic. Although, to be fair, Bokuto had had Akaashi’s heart before he started feeding him.</p><p>The photographer smiles and gestures towards her setup, and Akaashi subtly slides behind the people standing between them to be out of the Bokutos’ field of view. Hanemi and Bokuto laugh, and Bokuto gestures excitedly towards a plate of onigiri behind them. </p><p>Hanemi suddenly whips around. She grabs Remi and whispers something to him. The two look shocked and begin searching for something around them.</p><p>“Ah, Hideyoshi’s missing?” Kenma comments. He still hasn’t pried his eyes up from the console.</p><p>Hanemi turns back around briefly, taps Bokuto on the shoulder, and pushes him forward with the photographer towards the onigiri table. She then whips her gaze back and forth over the crowd, looking for all the world like an owl scanning a field for prey. She zones in on a corner of the room and dashes forward in that direction, Remi in hot pursuit.</p><p>Kenma bumps into Akaashi with his shoulder lightly. “You were going to talk to Bokuto, right?”</p><p>Akaashi looks over. “Ah… well… he seems to be busy.” The two had walked away, leaning towards each other as they picked onigiri from a table. Bokuto excitedly waves his hands as he talks, and she giggles gently into her hand. Bokuto beams at that.</p><p>Kenma finally lifts his eyes towards Akaashi and gives him the most exasperated, dead-eyed look Akaashi had ever seen.</p><p>“...What?” </p><p>Kenma doesn’t shift for a few seconds before he sighs. “Because of that owl’s mess, Kuro’s involved. Because Kuro’s involved, I’m involved. What a waste of energy.” Kenma peeks down at his phone as he gets a notification. He begins messaging back.</p><p>“Has something happened with Bokuto-san?” Akaashi tamps down the rising panic. He’s not Bokuto’s babysitter. He can handle himself. He doesn’t need Akaashi—</p><p>“No, just…” Kenma squints at his phone and sighs again. “Kuro says you should go to the balcony. There are doors on the east side of the ballroom.”</p><p>“Why does Kuroo-san want me—”</p><p>“I think it’s better not to ask. You can take food and stuff out there. He said you’d ‘appreciate the privacy.’”</p><p>Akaashi considers that. He had been socializing all evening; a breather sounded like a good idea.</p><p>“Alright, he nods. I’ll…” he looks over at Bokuto and the photographer, still at the nearest appetizer table. He replans his route to the onigiri table on the other side of the room, then towards the balcony. “I’ll be going then, I guess.”</p><p>“Sure.” Kenma says, eyes returning to the game. Akaashi starts walking off, and he could swear he hears Kenma mutter out, “And good luck.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Next time: loose ends and endings</p><p>Yeah wow this was oddly hard to write -- I had so many words but none of them were leading me to where I wanted my characters to be. There's a lot of unnecessary fluff here. Enjoy some side kagehina in honor of the recent chap 399 release, I guess?</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0014"><h2>14. Chapter 14</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Another chapter, another late update! But this is the last one; completion, hooray!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Hey hey hey.” The familiar call is soft, and Akaashi pulls himself from his reverie to smile gently over his shoulder. Bokuto steps out to sit next to Akaashi on the bench, facing the city view in the cool air.</p><p>Akaashi volunteers one of his onigiri forwards, and Bokuto takes it after glancing over at the five others on Akaashi’s plate. He nibbles at it in uncharacteristically small bites. Akaashi raises his eyebrow at this, and Bokuto sheepishly grins.</p><p>“I’ve actually eaten ten already,” he scratches his head, embarrassed.</p><p>“Well, if you don’t want it—”</p><p>Bokuto backs off and quickly stuffs the rest of the rice ball into his mouth. “Mf-no—you gave it to me, it’s mine!” He grimaces and swallows. </p><p>Akaashi rolls his eyes and hands Bokuto the bottle of water that Akaashi had brought for himself. “Don’t choke, Bokuto-san.”</p><p>Bokuto takes the drink gratefully, only coughing a little as he swallows the mouthful of water.</p><p>“I didn’t—<em>cough</em>—Akaashi!”</p><p>Akaashi smiles to himself. “Well, if you choke to death on the onigiri that you devised, I guess you have nobody else to blame.”</p><p>Bokuto humphs. “They’re good, though.”</p><p>Akaashi only nods as he continues munching on his own onigiri. It’s the eleventh one, but Bokuto doesn’t need to know that.</p><p>The two of them take the next few moments to look out over the balcony railing. A chill breeze floats through, and Bokuto curves his spine slightly, bringing his limbs closer to his body.</p><p>“Bokuto-san, if you’re cold, you can head inside. I won’t be much longer.”</p><p>Bokuto shakes his head. “No, let’s stay outside. I’m not that cold, but—” and his eyes suddenly flash with determination, catching Akaashi off guard just a bit, “—if you don’t mind…” Bokuto crowds in towards Akaashi’s left, pressing their shoulders together.</p><p>Akaashi doesn’t react to the sudden proximity, but he turns his head just in case, focusing on the food in his hands.</p><p>“Alright. But I don’t want you to catch a cold, Bokuto-san. You tend to overestimate your resistance to temperature.”</p><p>Bokuto doesn’t say anything in response. After a few seconds of silence, decidedly more awkward than the comfortable quiet earlier, Akaashi turns to see Bokuto fidgeting with his hands in his lap.</p><p>Akaashi’s just finishing up his last onigiri. If he’s being honest, he doesn’t quite want to go inside yet, so he brings up whatever idle thread of conversation is freshest in his mind.</p><p>“Were you interested in the photographer earlier? She was very cute.”</p><p>Ah. Maybe that wasn’t the best topic.</p><p>Bokuto slowly blinks as he zones in on Akaashi’s face. </p><p>“Uh—who?”</p><p>“The photographer…? Kozume said she was a family friend? Her photos were very good. She seems very talented.”</p><p>Bokuto seems to wilt more the more Akaashi speaks. “I mean… I guess, yeah…” He frowns and his expression seems pinched, focused into a small pout, before he continues. “I don’t know, were <em>you</em> interested in her?”</p><p>Akaashi snorts a small, dismissive sigh. “No, Bokuto-san. Besides, from what I saw, she did seem rather enamoured with you.”</p><p>“Well, I don’t think I was being misleading or anything.” Bokuto’s voice is becoming more petulant, and his pout inches outward the smallest amount.</p><p>Akaashi quietly swings his arm across Bokuto’s back and pats him lightly on his outside shoulder. He pointedly avoids looking at his other arm, where the red string is most likely blowing lightly on the wind as it had been when Bokuto walked onto the balcony.</p><p>“Bokuto-san, it’s alright to seek out connections. I didn’t mean to prevent you from companionship. I just get a little over-worried, sometimes—”</p><p>Bokuto’s eyes flash, and Akaashi finds his words slowing to a halt.</p><p>“Yeah, I know. I know, because I know you, Akaashi, even if you don’t trust me enough to tell me a lot of things.” Akaashi opens his mouth to protest, but Bokuto stops him with a hand over his shoulder, tilting them both so that they angle towards each other.</p><p>“Akaashi, listen to me, alright? I’m not interested in the photographer. I’m not interested in Daishou's brother-in-law. I don’t want you setting me up with people anymore.”</p><p>Akaashi feels his heart stutter a little at Bokuto’s intense look, and the words he’s saying register a beat later.</p><p>“Well—alright, but, if you ever change your mind—”</p><p>“Why are you so invested in finding a partner for me, anyway?” Bokuto’s expression is as focused as ever, drawing Akaashi in, but his voice is almost pleading.</p><p>Akaashi tilts his head. “It’s clearly something you care about, and I want to look out for you.”</p><p>Bokuto pulls his lips into a tighter frown. </p><p>“Stop it. I also want to look out for you, but we gotta talk about it. What we actually want. And, we <em>did</em> talk about this, already, before you left on your last three-week trip.”</p><p>“Yes, we did.” Akaashi’s heart twists just a little at the memory. “You’re quite self-sufficient.”</p><p>He pauses, continuing only under Bokuto’s scrutinizing squint.</p><p>“Well, you were at least busy enough to not message me for over a month,” Akaashi barely avoids mumbling this to the side.</p><p>Bokuto’s mouth curves into a little “o” of surprise. “Akaashi! What, no! I just wanted to prove to you that I could handle myself.” He puffs out his chest. “You should trust me.” Bokuto, then, does mumble. “Although it wasn’t easy…”  </p><p>This gives Akaashi pause. That cold spell had been at least partly fabricated through conscious effort, then? He shakes off the thought to respond.</p><p>“I do. And I will respect your wishes. I’m sorry that I haven’t been listening as well as I should have; I put too much stock into my own observations.”</p><p>“Well, you should ask. And I’ll ask you more too. And we gotta be honest with each other.”</p><p>“Alright, Bokuto-san.”</p><p>Bokuto hesitates. He flicks his eyes back and forth, fidgeting his own hands a little.</p><p>“So—there is something—well not wrong, but—but, I don’t know how you’ll feel about it, actually. Um, I promise I’ll do what it takes to make it less burdensome… and no matter what, I trust you—”</p><p>That’s true. Suddenly Akaashi’s ears ring with Bokuto’s words. He trusts Akaashi. </p><p>“And I owe it to you, to be honest—”</p><p>And Akaashi also trusts Bokuto. No matter what.</p><p>What a hypocrite Akaashi’s been. </p><p>“So, Akaashi, I—”</p><p>Bokuto has given him nothing but his brave, bare-hearted honesty, and Akaashi hasn’t come close to returning the courtesy.</p><p>“Wait, Bokuto-san.” He’s the one that owes Bokuto the absolute truth, and his throat begins to burn with it. </p><p>“No, Akaashi, please—”</p><p>“Bokuto-san.”</p><p>Akaashi brings his hands up to cup Bokuto’s face. Bokuto’s words stop in his throat, his face crumpling into something like defeat. Akaashi feels his heart cracking as he watches Bokuto’s heartbroken expression, but he doesn’t stop to investigate it.</p><p>“I can’t—You don’t owe me anything, Bokuto-san.” Akaashi’s words tumble out. “I promise you, you could never burden me, and I trust you with my life. But I’m wronging you by keeping certain secrets longer—so… just, just let me go first?”</p><p>Bokuto’s eyes widen further, glittering gold disks shivering with the hint of tears. But Bokuto only closes his lips and nods.</p><p>Akaashi breathes out. “Thank you.” He closes his eyes to gather his thoughts for a second.</p><p>“You’re a bright person, Bokuto-san. You’re strong, and you’re capable, and you’re even a bit of a genius.” He huffs out a small laugh. “When it comes to certain things, anyway.</p><p>“You probably don’t know how much light you bring into peoples’ lives.” Akaashi inhales. “Into my life.” </p><p>But he shouldn’t close his eyes for this. He snaps them open. Then, with the bright warmth flowing from Bokuto’s gaze buoying him up, he lets the words fall from his lips.</p><p>“I wish I could stay by your side forever. You don’t need me, and you never have, but I want to be with you.” Akaashi inhales. “Because I love you.”</p><p>Bokuto’s wide-eyed expression has slackened, but his amazement is as gentle as always. Akaashi could bask in this warm connection indefinitely, but he snaps his train of thought back to attention.</p><p>“You don’t have to promise me anything like that, though,” Akaashi can feel his fingers tense, itching to hold Bokuto tighter, bring him in closer—but he doesn’t. He can’t. “I’m glad to have been your friend for this long, and I’ll continue to be that. If you’ll—if you’re alright with it. But… no obligation.” </p><p>Akaashi lets his hands fall now, and his eyes follow them. He glimpses a familiar dash of color on his fingers. “The red strings.” He sighs, pinching his eyelids shut, speaking quickly with barely room to breathe. “Bokuto-san, one more secret. And one more promise.” </p><p>Without waiting for confirmation, Akaashi continues. “I promise that you don’t have to worry about your red string, Bokuto-san, because it’s connected to me.”</p><p>“Aka—”</p><p>“Sorry, let me finish.” Akaashi leans over bodily, using his right hand to clamp Bokuto’s mouth shut. “I guess I’m a little sorry that your search ended in this anticlimactic way. It was literally under your nose the whole time.” Akaashi smiles at this a little. He’s sure Hanemi had said something to that effect before.</p><p>“I do like romantic stories and fated partners, a little, at least. But it doesn’t matter. The red strings of fate are sparkly, shiny… weightless, immaterial. They’ve never mattered. You deserve the world, Bokuto-san,” Akaashi feels his gaze soften as he moves his hand from Bokuto’s lips. “And, how could I get in the way of that?”</p><p>Akaashi leans back. He’s said it. The last thing weighing on his chest, collecting dust but getting no lighter over the decade during which it occupied the spot. His cheeks are warm and he can feel relief collecting at the corners of his eyes—relief, and something else, something born from Bokuto’s awestruck expression, from the warmth of his breath against his hand. </p><p>Akaashi shuts his eyes again and smiles as he lets the tears pool and slip onto his cheeks—</p><p>—but instead he’s suddenly crushed into stiff, black fabric, half his vision blocked by wild grey hair, pulled into the scent of mint and spice and wind.</p><p>He freezes only for a second before he realizes that, as lovely as Bokuto’s embraces are (as they always are), this is one of the many in which he cannot breathe. Bokuto immediately releases him when Akaashi taps his shoulder, but not far. Bokuto has his hands gripped, vicelike, on his shoulders, face a hair’s breadth away from Akaashi’s.</p><p>Bokuto’s eyes are wrenched shut, though. Akaashi barely makes out what he’s saying, Bokuto choking out his words through stuttering breaths.</p><p>“Thank god—I thought you—and you stopped me when I was gonna—and—” a bubble of laughter mixes into the words. He flicks his eyes up, steadying his breathing, and finally exhales, “<em>Akaashi.</em>”</p><p>The way his name is cradled in Bokuto’s voice, tender and precious, brings an unwanted blush to Akaashi’s cheeks. But when he tries to turn and cover his cheeks, Bokuto grabs his hands and folds them into his own, thumbs running over his fingers in a gentle pattern.</p><p>“Akaashi—so—I’m not sure how I could but I always get these things wrong. So that means you—you want to date me! And we even have the string, so—” The gears are whizzing, practically audibly as Bokuto processes the information. </p><p>His face freezes for a moment of shock. “Wait. But you didn’t want me to know so does that mean you don’t want—” The panic edges in towards his eyes before he lurches back up again. Akaashi follows Bokuto’s changes with all the grace of a tin can hanging off a car bumper, rattling along the ground.</p><p>“No! You said you love me so—” Bokuto freezes again. He dives off the bench, still holding Akaashi’s hands, and he kneels in front of Akaashi on the ground. Bokuto’s on both knees, but the position and his warm grip on Akaashi's hands is enough to make Akaashi blush up to his ears.</p><p>“Akaashi,” the tender voice again, but urgent—and Akaashi’s face really can’t get any redder—“Akaashi, I love you.”</p><p>Akaashi blinks.</p><p>“Akaashi, please be mine.”</p><p>A blink again. A fog seems to have sunk into Akaashi’s mind, because this is something he can’t begin to process. How does one navigate this situation? </p><p>On autopilot, Akaashi begins to stumble out, “I—don’t—”</p><p>And it’s Bokuto’s turn to smush Akaashi’s mouth closed, one hand lifting from Akaashi’s lap to press over his lips.</p><p>“I know we just said we’d listen to each other and all but I think you’re going to say something dumb and it’s my turn to talk anyway so let me say some things!” Bokuto rapid-fires out.</p><p>Bokuto locks eyes with Akaashi. “Akaashi, I want to be with you, too. You’re smart, and strong, and really funny, and everyone likes you, but I’m—I’m the one that likes you the most.” Bokuto’s eyes are determined, and Akaashi almost wants to laugh and poke him in the forehead as he makes these claims with all the confidence typically only possessed by children. </p><p>Almost, but his mind is reeling at the words. Bokuto lowers his hand, returning it to grasp Akaashi’s palms.</p><p>“Bokuto-san—”</p><p>“Wait. I’m not done.” Bokuto’s brows scrunch together a little in concentration. “We’ve been friends for years, so… Mom would probably smack me for this… but I just assumed that we’d always be, you know. Side-by-side. I guess I only figured it out recently, that you could really leave—like, not for three weeks, not for a year, but really leave, permanently.</p><p>“And I didn’t think about it until really late, but it’d be nice to also have… you know. Things that… more-than-friends have. If you want that, too.” Bokuto’s flush now rivals Akaashi’s, but he continues on, headstrong.</p><p>“But, yeah. I started missing you before you were gone.” He frowns briefly. “I mean, I’d be alright on my own even then. But… who wants to be ‘just alright’ when they can be happy?” </p><p>He breathes deeply. “So if you’re gonna say no,” Bokuto tilts his head down for a second, blinking, and lifts his head back up quickly, eyes dry. “I want to know why not.”</p><p>Akaashi breathes in but forgets how to exhale, instead opting to stumble through his words in the vague hope his lungs don’t give out.</p><p>“I—Bokuto-san, you—” Bokuto is frowning, hanging on every syllable. “I don’t think I’m—  you can find someone who deserves you.” Akaashi struggles through his thoughts. “Someone bright like you, someone better to be on the end of that string…”</p><p>This time, Bokuto waits patiently for him to finish, but Akaashi trails off, feet dragging through the mire of his scattered mind.</p><p>“I guess you gotta ask yourself what you want. Although we both know how hard a question that is for you,” Bokuto smiles, edging into cheeky territory. Akaashi’s brows furrow together.</p><p>“But deserving this, deserving that—it’s a lot easier than that, you know?” Bokuto supplies. “You make me happy, ‘Kaashi, when you’re around.” Bokuto smiles hopefully at Akaashi. “And I would try my hardest to make you happy, too.” </p><p>And there it is, again. Bokuto breaks through his thoughts easily, like sunlight after a storm, or a stiff breeze through fog.</p><p>Akaashi doesn’t stop the humming of confused thoughts in his mind, but he lets Bokuto’s words really sink in.</p><p><em>He loves you,</em>, some part of his mind claims, rising above the buzz.</p><p><em>He says you make him happy,</em> another part joins in.</p><p>And Akaashi stops to ask himself again what he really wants—and isn’t it just that? Doesn’t he want to make Bokuto happy?</p><p>The realization must show on his face, because Bokuto breaks into a blinding grin inch by inch. Akaashi feels the heat in his ears and his cheeks, but he meets Bokuto’s eyes and lets himself fall into that smile. </p><p>And when Bokuto lifts one hand up to his jawline, gently cradling it in a question, Akaashi wonders why he ever stopped himself from falling at all.</p><p>He falls, and—It’s not falling, he realizes. He’s flying, borne on bright sunbeams and crisp winds. </p><p>And when he meets Bokuto’s lips, it’s the taste of onigiri and the memory of toothpaste; it’s citrus tea and whispered first names.</p><p>It tastes of the glittering red of late strawberries, warmed by the golden glow of late spring.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Thank you so much for reading!</p><p>Apologies again for the delays in the last few chapters, and thank you so much for sticking around while I puttered out this bokuaka story! Maybe I was projecting my own slowness onto my characters lmao took them long enough~</p><p>I’d love to hear your thoughts on the story! I’m also always eager to yell about HQ with other fans on twitter (<a href="https://twitter.com/DazzleTwig">@dazzletwig</a>). </p><p>Part of the reason I’ve been so delayed with my writing lately is that I’ve been distracted by illustrating a SakuAtsu webcomic; if that sounds like it might be interesting, it's available in a thread <a href="https://twitter.com/DazzleTwig/status/1274683057577099266">here</a>. </p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
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